Daughter of Anarchy
by imalionrawr010
Summary: She didn't leave Charming because of SAMCRO or because of him. And she didn't return for those reasons either. It's hard to stay away from something when it seems to be bred into one's DNA. Anarchy runs in Brielle Clark's family.
1. Welcome Home

**So I've been rewatching season one and two on Netflix and I've become really inspired to write a story. I did write and post one before, but it got exceedingly complicated. This is a completely different story that what I originally wrote. Disclaimer: I do not own any SOA/FX material, characters, or themes. OC's are mine. P.S.-I don't really like the idea of Tig's daughter's Dawn and Fawn. Just adds more complication :P Well...enjoy! :D**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter one<strong>

Expensive red wine glugged from its bottle into a rosy pink glass. A black nail polished hand took the glass from the kitchen counter, and returned to the living room where several photo albums were on the coffee table. The hand raised the glass to a pair of rosy lips and then set the glass on a spot of the table that was clear.

The hand that held the glass flipped open a photo album. The rosy lips formed a smile at the first picture. Brielle Clark remembered when her father had still been alive and when her parents had still been happy together. Raymond and Mary Clark had been high school sweethearts and Charming residents since birth. Brielle always remembered somewhat civil times with her parents, up until her little sister died.

She flipped the page, unwilling to dwell on the negative feelings and memories. Pictures of her family, assorted members of her father's and mother's sides and pets followed, widening the smile on her face. Some even got Brielle to laugh quietly out loud. But she never laughed too loud; no need to wake up the beast.

Brielle's smile turned to a surprised half frown as she came across her favorite picture. It really had been a while since she had looked at these albums her mother left her. Brielle guessed she was about 16 or 17; that was the last time she could recall being blonde. She couldn't remember how old he was, but he did look good in that Marine uniform. Brielle remembered giggling at his unruly curly hair. It sometimes stuck out from under his hat. Smiles were plastered on both of their faces as they looked in the camera. A frown formed on Brielle's face; such happy expressions on such a sad day. The anniversary of her father's death.

A pit formed in Brielle's stomach. Taking a large gulp of her wine, she looked around the large, expensive house her boyfriend had convinced her to move into a year ago. Her hazel eyes fell on the equally expensive diamond ring on her left ring finger. Yes, engaged. After two years of dating. It was the right time, things were going right. But something in her stomach told her nothing was right. She wasn't where she was supposed to be. Especially after what had happened three weeks ago.

She looked around more. Persian rug, granite fireplace, bay windows, modern furniture. All of it was ridiculous and gawdy. The Persian rug had cost Jeremy $54,292 dollars alone. Which was why she was leaving him; all he really cared for were materialistics. Brielle stood, draining the last of her wine, returning to the kitchen to wash the glass and repack it. She went back to the living room and packed the albums into a box, taped it shut, then put the last of the glassware her mother had given her on top of the photos. Her stomach did almost three flips when the front door opened. Relief swept over her when she saw her brother.

"C'mon Brie. It's almost four. You know Jeremy wakes at five for his routine or whatever. Is this the last of the boxes?" Zane asked, pointing at the cardboard boxes.

"Yeah, it is. Be careful with the top one; it's my wine glasses." She clasped a hand to her forehead and the other to her hip.

"Which you obviously use too much." He teased.

"I'll be right out," Brielle laughed silently and her brother heaved the boxes, exiting the house. "Just one last thing."

The tenth grade teacher went to Jeremy's desk to write her explaination. She wasn't sure what to write on. Brielle felt dumb; she had planned every last step of this move, including securing a job in Charming. But she had overlooked the note and what she would do about it. Finally she decided on regular notebook paper, tearing a page out of one Jeremy's journals. She plucked up his favorite fountain pen, circa 1927, and uncapped it. A cruel smile formed on her face as she wrote, ruining the nib forever.

She taped it somewhere he would find it and left. As she ventured to her ink black 1971 Corvette Stingray, she pulled the diamond ring from her left ring finger and put in on her right one. Behind her classic car, Zane's F-150 Super Duty roared to life. Once Brielle started her car, they pulled away from the curbside, leaving the snobby LA neighborhood. It felt good leaving this and going home in her father's car with her brother taking the U-Haul on his truck.

* * *

><p>Delighted shouts and squeals from her brother's children filled Brielle's ears as she stepped into the house. She fell to her knees, going to eye level with the children. The three children attacked her with excited hugs, toppling the four of them to the ground. Zane side-stepped past the tangle of his children and sister to greet his wife.<p>

"Aunt Brielle, you have to watch me to a backflip on the trampoline!" The oldest, an eleven year old named Tyler, jumped up from the floor and ran to the sliding glass door and waited for his aunt.

"No! Aunt Brielle, play Grand Theft Auto with me." Tyler's younger ten year old brother, Henry, ran to the large tv in the living room and held up a controller for a PlayStation.

"Momma promised Aunt Brielle was gonna color with me." Zane's youngest child, six year old Elizabeth, gripped her aunt's leg tightly as the woman walked to the kitchen.

"In due time guys. Let your aunt get settled." Zane's wife told her children. The three obeyed and returned to their respective activities. Kelli turned to her sister in law and gave her a hug. "Welcome back."

"Oh, it's good to be back." Brielle sat on a stool at the island in the kitchen. Her brother handed a full, and hot coffee cup to her. Brielle took the mug along with a long sip of the brew.

"Why'd you leave Los Angeles?" Kelli asked, drinking her own coffe.

"Things were getting too complicated." Brielle avoided bother her brother and sister in law's eyesight. Zane knew the reason why she had left, and she just couldn't look at him. "Too expensive."

"So are you going to work at the high school?"

"Nah," Brielle shook her head. "Got a job at the middle school. Eighth grade history and after school choir."

"Oh, choir? Didn't know you sang." Kelli noted, a wide smile on her face. Zane chuckled at his wife and Brielle simply nodded. "Well, Ty's going into sixth grade, maybe we can set up a carpool or something."

A few moments of silence passed. Brielle played with the keys to her Corvette, Zane refilled his cup of coffee and Kelli texted. Henry shouted at the game console from the living room and Elizabeth talked to her teddy bear. From the backyard, they could hear the trampoline spings creaking as Tyler bounced on the canvas and their large German Shepard barking at a squirrel. Brielle's stomach sank as she remembered the Shepard she had to put to sleep years ago. She loved that dog with every beat of her heart.

"Brielle," Kelli spoke after Zane left the kitchen, reportedly for the bathroom. "How's the love life?"

"Lacking. It's why I left LA."

"Oh." Kelli bit her lip a bit, choosing her nexgt words carefully. "Are you going to see him?"

By "him," Brielle knew who Kelli ment. She hadn't really thought about it, or him, in a while. But now that she did, she didn't think it'd be a half bad idea. Perhaps she'd send him a text. Maybe after Zane and her took the U-Haul to her house and got the new car she wanted. She shrugged.

"Maybe," Brielle stood from the chair and turned to face her brother.

"Ready to go?" He asked and she nodded. After saying goodbyes, they left the house and headed for their respective cars.

* * *

><p>Tig Trager, Sergeant at Arms for the Sons of Anarchy, flew down the street on his bike. He saw the glances the towns people of Charming gave him when he stopped at a light. They made him feel powerful; untouchable. The road he rode on was curvy and fun to ride at death defying speeds. A slight smile grew on his face as he remembered getting a light scolding from an old girlfriend. He pulled back on the accelerator, rocketting forward on a straight-away.<p>

He slowed the bike as he neared a house that had been his home at one time. The "for sale" sign that had been in the yard recently had been removed. A frown formed on his face as he saw the brand new F-150 in the driveway, and a U-Haul behind it. Tig shut off his bike after he pulled next to the curb and put the kickstand down. He got off the bike and hopped onto the curb. He took notice of the Mitsubishi Outlander he parked his bike infront of. Tig crossed the yard, not giving a shit if the new owners got pissed about him walking on the grass.

The front door was open and Tupac's California Love was playing on the stereo. Tig grimaced at the thought of gangbangers moving into the house of one of the bravest men he knew.

"Hello?" He called, trying to shout over the stereo. Nothing except the words of Tupac answered him. He called the greeting out again, this time knocking on the door. Still no one answered. Taking a leap of good faith, Tig crossed the threshold, hoping to God whoever now owned the house wasn't jumpy with a gun. He saw two people sitting at the bar Raymond had put in, one man and one woman. Confusion clouded his mind when he noticed their skin color. And who they were.

Brielle and Zane Clark turned in the swivel chairs when they heard the faint sound of Tig's boots on the tile. A crooked smiled turned on Zane's face as he got out of the chair and paused the music. Quietness settled on the three of them and Zane made his way to give Tig an almost strangling hug.

"Hey, Tig. What're you doing in this neck of the woods?" Zane partially laughed, clapping Tig on the back.

"Nothing much really. Just on a ride." Tig replied, looking around at the interior of the house. It was just as he remembered. He wondered if Zane and his sister were clearing their father's memorabilia for the new owners. "Besides, this is on the way to the club."

"Do you want a drink? Brie and I were just taking inventory of the whiskey and scotch." Zane pointed towards the bar with his thumb.

"Yeah, I'll have a scotch."

"Brie, do you think you can-"

"No," She snapped, looking into Tig's blue eyes with her smoldering hazel. "You two have hands." Brielle picked the pack of smokes that was sitting out of the bar and exited the house through the sliding glass door, her tall expensive heels clicked on the floor. The door shut without any sign of her aggrivation. A sharp breath left her brother, and he shook his head, heading back to the bar.

"Sorry, Tig," Zane retrieved a scotch glass and a bottle of Aberlour. "I don't know what's up with her. You still drink it on the rocks?"

"Yeah, yeah." Tig nodded, looking down at the cherrywood bar. "And don't worry about Brielle; I'll talk to her." He picked up the glass of the sherry-cask liquor and took a short sip. "What's going on with your old man's place?"

"Brielle's moving in, bought it from the bank. Kelli and I couldn't afford the payments for two houses and we sold it back last year. Brie just couldn't let it go." The oldest Clark shrugged. Tig furrowed his brows.

"What, she get tired of the LA lifestyle?" He glanced at the glass door. Zane hemmed and hawed, tossing his head side to side.

"That, and the man she shacked up with hit her."

"Shhiitt." The biker hissed under his breath, Zane nodded.

"Yeah, man. Gave her a nice black eye. She couldn't go to work for two weeks. You know how hard it is for teachers to get subs for even just a day." Tig nodded.

"How long ago was this?" Tig narrowed his eyes. A wide grin grew on Zane's face.

"Her black eye healed up a week ago." The biker caught on and a hearty laugh left his throat.

"Three weeks ago, huh? Damn strong girl."

"That or stubborn."

Brielle sat in a comfortable lawn chair, taking a long drag of her third cigarette. She couldn't believe it; he had seriously shown up! What nerve, what balls he had walking into someone's home. He didn't even know if Zane and herself were in the house. Unless he saw the Corvette in the open garage. Either way, she wasn't really sure if she cared. A snort came from her sinus cavity. It was nice to see him...

The shifting noise of the sliding door caught her attention. She couldn't belive the fluttering she felt in her heart as Tig stepped out of the house. He shut the door behind him and pulled his own pack of smokes from his cut pocket and put it in his mouth. Brielle grumbled to herself and flicked the remaining filter from her cancer stick into the luch green backyard.

"Grass is awful green for this time of year." Tig noted, lighting his cigarette. Brielle laughed a little as she lit a fourth cigarette.

"Yeah, but it feels real nice on my bare feet." Brielle stretched out her heelless feet, wiggling her toes. A chuckle came from Tig. The laugh tickled her ears and she yearned to hear more. Brielle put out her cigarette in an ashtray and she returned her feet to her heels. The teacher returned her half-smoked cigarette to its carton with its brethern and stood. Tig noticed and straightened. He couldn't help but smile as he noticed the top of her head only came to his forehead, with heels on. "I'm sorry for earlier. I've kind of been on edge lately. It's nice to see you again, Alex."

"Don't worry about it. Zane explained everything." Tig liked hearing his name come from her lips. She gaped at the biker and then shut her mouth.

"He told you about Jeremy-"

"Hitting you, yeah."

"God," She hissed. "You must think me as weak, huh?" Brielle looked at the back fence, her auburn hair falling in her face.

"No, no." Tig neared her, a frown now on his face, and turned her head to look at him. With his first two right fingers, he pulled her hair behind her ear. "You're not weak. He's just a spineless coward. Only cowards like him hit women. You're a smart girl for getting out as soon as you did."

Tig, against his better judgement, placed his lips on her forehead. He felt her shakily exhale as he moved from her forehead to her closed eyelids. The pounding that his ribcage was recieving from his heart surprised him. His heart lept when he felt her small soft hand place itself on his cheek. Her lips followed and placed themselves on his.

The kiss lasted long than it probably should have, but neither stopped it. It felt as if an hour had passed when the two pulled apart. His blue eyes flicked around her face, trying to see if there was any trace of the black eye. There was none and he caught the gaze of her hazel eyes.

"It's nice seeing you again...Tigger." Brielle whispered, looking up at him with her doe-like eyes. Tig felt taunted, but grinned nonetheless.

"Yeah, it was nice seeing you too. Gemma's having a family dinner tonight. How 'bout you and Zane stop by?" Tig peered down at her, a sly smile on his face.

"I haven't been part of the family for a number of years, Tig."

"Nah," He put an other kiss on her lips. "Gemma's always liked you. Don't matter why you went to LA or how long you were there, you're always part of SAMCRO family." Brielle laughed a little bit and nodded.

"I can go. Zane's got something later tonight, though, but I'll extend the invitation to him anyway."

Tig entered the house with Brielle following. He returned his pack of smokes to his pocket and went to Zane to say goobye and thank him for the scotch.

"I'll pick you up at seven," Tig gave Brielle one last kiss and turned back to Zane. "You know you're always welcome back."

Zane nodded. "Still got my cut. Clay's got my number if you boys ever need an old friend's help." Tig said his last goodbyes and left, leaving the door open.

Brielle went to the kitchen to finish unpacking the last two kitchen boxes. They were mostly plates and silverware and easy to put away. From her peripheral, she caught her brother, sneaking to the kitchen. She ignored him and continued unpacking, not in the mood for his lecture. Zane leaned on the counter, the hazel eyes that ran in the Clark family bored a hole through her soul.

"Don't even start with me, Zander." She warned. "Tig says there's a family dinner tonight, you in?"

"Nah, not tonight Brie. Listen," He straightened from leaning on the counter and went to Brielle, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Be careful baby sister. I know you and Tig didn't end on bad terms, but think about mom and dad. Dad's involvement ruined their marriage and eventually cost him his youngest daughter. And his life. I just...you and Tig don't deserve what happened with our parents."

"Yeah, I got it Zane." She nodded, organising her forks. "What happened with Lily won't happen again."

"You're a smart girl, Brie. Use that brain. I gotta go."

Another nod came from her, and the siblings said goodbye. Brielle stopped putting away the dishes and went to the front door to shut it. She took her iPod from the stereo in the living room and took it to the one that was in the master bedroom. The sounds of AC/DC began to fill the bedroom and bathroom as Brielle stepped into the shower, turning the hot knob on.

The water heated quickly and she began to sing along with Bon Scott. Brielle couldn't stop herself from laughing. It was alarming to her how quickly she had gotten over Jeremy. She felt giddy with excitment as she thought about the family dinner. She also couldn't help but feel nervous too. Brielle hadn't seen anyone in the SAMCRO family for a while; she hoped it wouldn't be too awkward.

After she rinsed the last of the conditioner out of her hair, Brielle stepped out of the shower and dried herself off with her favorite towel. She looked in the full length mirror and admired her reflection and tattoos. A pink and white lily in the beak of a red breasted robin on her right shoulder blade, the SAMCRO reaper (complete with crystal ball and sythe rifle) on the side of her left thigh, a blue jay on her left hip and cardinal on her right. Brielle wiggled her lips from side to side, her heart yearned for another tattoo; she whatsn't sure what of yet. She had to admit, she had a thing for tattoos. And dangerous outlaw bikers.

* * *

><p><strong>Review please :D Chapter two will be up no matter what :3 But I seriously need your guys' help on something. Who do you prefer: Juice or Tig? I'm kind of leaning towards Tig, but Juice is pretty awesome too :D <strong>


	2. Family Dinner

**Wow. I got a totally unexpected responce from everyone who favorited, subscribed, and reviewed. Thank you all so much! It really makes me want to keep going :D And I shall! I've pretty much decided between Tig and Juice, but I think my choice won't be written for another chapter or so :] until then... Disclaimer: I do not own or have any leverage on any FX or Sons of Anarchy characters, scripts, themes, ideas, or the orginial storyline. The whole Clark family is mine.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter two<strong>

Bobby, Half-Sack, and some of the other SAMCRO members watched Tig as he said a short, but heartfelt, prayer for the two dead Mexican women that had been cooked alive a couple days before. They found it odd that Tig decided to say a prayer for women he only used for sex. But no one said anything against it, or about it, and left the crematorium. The men were all saddling up on their bikes, getting ready to head to the Morrow house.

"Hey, Tig," Jax Teller, the Vice President of SAMCRO and the President's stepson, spoke up before everyone started up their bikes. "You coming to dinner tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll be there." He nodded, kicking his bike stand up. It was quite obvious he was in somewhat of a hurry.

"What're you in a rush for?" Chibbs called out, his native Scottish accent twisted his words. Many women would ask for him to repeat what he had said, just to fawn over his accent. Tig really didn't know why women thought accents were attractive.

"You got a hot date?" Bobby teased Tig. Laughs came from a few other guys as they waited for an answer.

"You could say that." He gave them a twisted smile and sped off.

* * *

><p>Gemma set a bowl of salad on her large table, eight members of SAMCRO she and an other old lady had cooked for sat in the living room. Clay was the predominant voice in the living room, but others would speak, humoring everyone in the room. Gemma finished the cigarette she had been lightly puffing on and put her hands on her hips. She went to the doorframe of the living room, watching her son and second husband exchange pleasentries, their comrades laughing at the jokes they told.<p>

The widow Teller counted the men in her living room. She was one short. Where was Tig? Jax did say that he was showing up. She shrugged and entered the living room.

"Alright boys, dinner's ready." She announced and they dashed to the dining room, taking their places, leaving a spot open for Tig next to Piney and Juice near the end of the table. Gemma stopped her son before he could get to the dining room. "Where's Tig?"

Jax shrugged. "I dunno. He should be showing up soon. Said he was getting his date."

"He has a date?" Gemma repeated and her son nodded. "Who?"

He shrugged again. "Didn't say."

"You could have told me sooner." Gemma rolled her eyes and went to the kitchen to retrieve another plate. From the kitchen she heard someone enter the door, and greetings were given; Gemma could hear the sound of hands slapping the leather cut on someone's back. The mother to the whole of SAMCRO returned to the dining room and placed the plate next to her spot.

"Hey, Gem." Tig cooed, wrapping an arm around her. Gemma put her arm around his waist breifly.

"Where' your date?" She asked, a bit of annoyance in her voice, as Tig went to his chair, draping his cut on the back of his chair.

"Right here," A little voice called to the whole table. Everyone's attention shifted to the entrance of the dining room, there stood a woman with long wavy auburn hair. She wore a halter top, a black hoodie, jeans, and a pair of tall heels. Gemma was surprised she wasn't tripping over her feet as she walked to greet the family she had known since birth. "Sorry, I didn't get to tell you I was here. I think I have the wrong number or it got changed or something."

Clay stood from the head of the table and strode to where Brielle was. He put his big, paw like hands on her shoulders. All waited with baited breath and on the edge of their chairs for what the President was going to say. The tall, and now greying, leader of the mother chapter released a smile and pulled Brielle close to her for a hug.

"Welcome back, little girl." Gemma pulled her into a hug after her husband let go. It seemed to Brielle that Gemma held her tighter than Clay had.

Brielle hung her jacket on the chair she was given next to Gemma. She manuvered around her second mother and began to give the members of SAMCRO their personalised hellos. Bobby was first, giving her a hug that was probably tighter than Gemma's. Brielle gave Clay a kiss on the cheek as she passed him to get to Jax.

Juice watched this new woman. He was intrigued by her. He wondered how Tig knew her and why she was so close to the Teller-Morrow familly. After Jax was Chibbs. They exchanged a few pleasentries in an odd language; Juice assumed it was Scottish-Gaelic and Chibbs had perhaps taught some to her? He was thoroughly curious now. Piney stood from his chair to give her a warm, father like, hug.

"You get more and more beautiful every time I see you." Piney gushed, making the woman Juice didn't know blush. He thought she looked cute while blushing. The old man sat down, allowing her to move down the table. She put her hands on Tig's shoulders, and bent to put a kiss on his cheek, her wavy, silk like hair fanned down over her shoulder. A smug smile grew on Tig's face and he took another kiss, but from her lips. Something in Juice's stomach didn't like whatever went on between them too. She got to Juice, a smile spread her lips apart, showing her teeth.

"You're new," She almost purred, putting her hand out for him to shake. "I'm Brielle."

Juice jumped up, almost knocking the chair over and earning laughs from everyone, and connected hands with her. "Juice. I'm not new though; I've been in SAMCRO for a couple years." An other laugh came from Brielle.

"You're cute. How do you like the club?" She took her black nailed hand from Juice's, still laughing. Juice shrugged.

"It's not bad. Mechanic by day, biker by night-"

"It's not always being a mechanic all day, Juice." Brielle gave him a smile; there appeared to be some heartbreak behind it. "You are always a biker. Always. But, I'm sure you already know that. Hell, if you didn't, you would have returned that patch at the end of your prospect year, right?" She gave him another smile, one that didn't look so sad this time. Before she turned to Half-Sack, she spoke one last time to him. "It's nice to meet you, Juice."

Tig passed the corn to Chibbs, taking an ear for himself. Brielle sat across from him, having a quiet conversation with Gemma about Jax's new baby boy, Abel. Gemma went on and on about her grandson and that somehow Jax and Wendy were going to get their shit together and become real parents. Brielle listened to Gemma's speech, a constant smile on her face, nodding here or there when she needed to, asking the right questions.

"You know who did the surgery on my grandson?" Gemma asked, looking at her surrogate daughter from the corner of her eye. Tig rolled his eyes; this was supposed to be a family dinner, not a Let's-Hate-Tara-Club convention.

Brielle shook her head. "No, who?"

"Tara. Remember her? Bony little bitch who broke Jax's heart." Gemma spat, her heart still broken after 11 years. Brielle was quiet for a moment, pondering what the right thing to say was as she cut the beef that she picked. Tig continued to watch. He watched the signs of aggrivation cross and then leave her face.

"I remember her, yeah. But we only know what Jax told us. There's two sides to every story." Brielle shrugged glancing up at her ex who sat across the table from her. She made a face that seemed to say "shut her up." Tig laughed to himself and continued his dinner.

"Well, I don't give a shit about what her excuse is." Gemma spat. Brielle rested her elbow on the armchair and scratched her hairline, her eyesight caught Juice's. He gave a secretive point at Gemma and then twirled his finger around his right ear. A laugh came from Brielle and she gave a slide nod.

"So," Clay spoke, silencing the whole table. "What brings you back to the pretty little city of Charming, Miss Clark?"

Once again, everyone's attention was on her. She gaped, like a fish out of water, wondering where to begin. Brielle shut her mouth, knowing she must have looked like a certain kind of special. She took another sip of her wine before answering Clay. The teacher looked at Tig; she didn't know if she should tell the bikers about Jeremy. They could be a pretty violent bunch when one of the old ladies, whether she had been around or not, was hurt. A sigh exited Brielle and she decided it was best for them to know. They were bound to find out sooner or later; probably due to her brother's loud mouth.

"Uh...things weren't working in LA." Leaning back in her chair, she ran a hand through her hair. She felt a boot, probably Tig's, rub against her leg in encouragement. "They...er, got expensive. And...well, violent." She felt relieved as everyone continued eating, and those who weren't interested in her story talked among themselves. From the corner of her eye she saw Juice listening; almost intently. "He and I disagreed about visiting Zane and Kelli in Charming. Jeremy didn't want to run into SAMCRO and create any problems. The argument got out of control and he hit me."

"That was three weeks ago." Tig spoke between bites of mashed potatoes.

"He hit you three weeks ago, and you've moved out already?" Jax narrowed his eyes. Brielle was surprised my the look her friend had on his face, and nodded. "You got out quick."

"Raymond would be proud of you, Brielle." Piney called out. "So when are we killing this shithead?" The old man earned laughs from everyone.

Brielle forgot how much she loved being part of the SAMCRO family. She felt a sudden pang of saddness. There was only one problem with this family dinner: neither her father or brother were sitting at this table. Her father wasn't supposed to be dead. And Zane was supposed to be in the club. She blamed Kelli for Zane's becoming inactive. In her heart, blame was put on her mother for her father's death. If Mary hadn't done what she did, Brielle wouldn't have a large scar on her belly, snaking around her ribs and stopping on her back. Lily would be alive. Her dad wouldn't have died so soon.

When dinner was finished, Gemma and the other old lady, Brielle forgot her name and who she belonged to, rose and cleared the empty platters from the table. Brielle followed, taking her plate, Clay's and Gemma's. She set the plates on the counter next to the sink. Gemma was elbows deep in soapy water.

"What do you need me to clear, Gem?" Brielle asked, pulling hair behind her ear.

"You can get the rest of the plates for me and Dolly." Gemma looked over for a couple seconds, a friendly smile on her face. Brielle nodded and went back to the dining room.

Most of the club members had left the dining room, trading it for the living room. Tig, Chibbs, Clay and Bobby had stayed. Brielle picked up Dolly, Half-Sack, and Juice's plates and took them to the kitchen. There were only so many plates stacked with silverware and glasses she could carry before one dropped. When she got back to the dining room, Tig was the only one there, still sitting. She reached infront of him to get his plate. Her heart lept when Tig's hand fell upon hers, his hypnotic blue eyes looking up at her.

"What if I ain't done with that?" He asked. Brielle smiled at his flirting.

"Seeing as there's nothing edible left on the table, you have to suck on the bone of the steak you ate." She answered sassily, complete with sticking her tounge out at him. Tig tugged a bit at her wrist, making her fall into his lap. He cupped her cheek with his hand, her soft hair brushed the top of his hand. Brielle laughed, which confused him a little, kissed him on the forehead and pulled herself out of the chair. "You know Gemma's going to be all over me if I don't show up with some dishes soon."

The time was 12:42 am, and the group was still at the Morrow house. Everyone was in the living room, Gemma had brought out a couple photo albums and the girls were laughing about a picture of a naked Jax and Tommy who were taking a bubbly bath together. Brielle had already seen the pictures a thousand times and had picked to sit between Bobby and Clay. It was obviously a bad decision. The two were mashing themselves as close as they could, making themselves a Brielle sandwich.

She pouted, trying to get someone to yank her out of the midst of the bikers. However, no matter how uncomfortable she was, she couldn't say there wasn't one ounce of angst about it. The laughter of the ones she had held dearest to her heart pleased her. It was unbelievable she hadn't spoke a word to these people in four years. Finally, Clay and Bobby stopped squeezing her and Brielle felt like she could finally breathe. She hugged herself, hoping one of her ribs hadn't broken.

A yawn bubbled up, but she locked her jaw; any sign of tiredness infront of the SAMCRO dudes was an open invitation to get picked on. Man or woman, it didn't matter. Gemma looked at the clock that hung above the mantle piece. Mama Bear stood, and clapped her hands together, announcing it was time for everyone to clear out. Everyone stood slowly, as if they were part of a funeral procession. Brielle said goodbye to the other guests, and thank you to the hosts.

She felt under pressure as Tig put an arm over her shoulders, leading her to his bike; almost as if someone was watching her. Turning her head around, she saw Juice, Bobby, Chibbs, and Half-Sack following, going to their respective bikes. Brielle shrugged, telling herself she was silly. Before Tig offered her his spare helmet, Brielle tied her hair in a low ponytail. Finally, she was being taken home where her bed would welcome her with warm blankets and soft pillows. Brielle threw a leg over the bike and sat on the bitch seat, putting her arms around Tig, holding tight, and pressing her cheek to his leather cut. The bike backed out of the drive-way and cold air was soon wipping her face.

* * *

><p>The Clark household was quiet and dark. All five members of the family slept peacefully and their dog laid on her pillow, chasing rabbits in her sleep. In the kitchen, the coffee maker clicked on and began to heat the water to make the strong brew Zane preferred. The biological clock in the three children rang it's alarm, telling them it was time to wake up. Today was Saturday and there was only one day before school started. Elizabeth crawled out of her bed and tiptoed past her brother's room to get to her mother and father's bedroom. Tyler and Henry were awake too, and were playing Halo on the XBox in their room.<p>

Kelli rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling. The smell of coffee and the sounds of her sons playing a video game drifted through the shut door. A smile appeared on her face when the door opened and her youngest stood in the doorway. She sat up and motioned for Elizabeth to cuddle with her. Zane, in the spot next to her snorted. A giggle came from Eliza; nothing could wake her daddy up easily.

"Momma, Daddy's still going to take us to Aunt Brielle's, right?" Elizabeth gave her mother puppy dog eyes.

"Of course, sweetheart. But it also depends on when he wakes up," Kelli watched as Bailey, the dog, trotted into the room and went to Zane's side of the bed. She stood on her back legs, the front two rested on the bed. "Bailey, wake him up." Kelli smiled mischeviously.

The dog leaned her head in closer to her master and began to pant. Kelli made a face; she was pretty sure a dog panting it's nasty breath in her face would wake her up. But not her husband. Bailey somehow knew that Elizabeth was counting on going to her aunt's house and gave Zane one giant lick on his face. Kelli and Elizabeth burst into laughter as Zane groaned and sat up, wiping the dog slobber off his face. Bailey wagged her tail and left the bedroom.

"Liza, go get ready for your Aunt's. Ask Ty and Henry if they still want to go or not." Zane told his daughter and began rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. Elizabeth ran out of the bedroom, headed for her brothers while Kelli crawled closer to her husband. She put her hands on his shoulders and began to massage. Unexpectanly, Zane pulled away and went to the dresser to put his casual Saturday clothes. He didn't know what to wear; he was still used to the club lifestyle and always wearing jeans. Zane felt a pit where his heart should. The father of three missed the club.

"Zane, hun? Is something wrong?" Kelli pouted, lounging on the bed. Zane kept himself from looking at her. He shook his head no. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Zane shrugged a little. "Kind of."

"I blame that damn SAMCRO," Kelli pointed her finger at him. Zane looked at her from the corner of his eye. "If it weren't for them-" Zane snatched her hand, pushing her pointing finger down with his thumb.

"Don't you dare blame them. If it wasn't for those guys, I would be six feet in the ground with Lily. You don't know shit about the Sons."

Brielle woke in her bed, a small ray of the afternoon sun stared her in the eye, peeped through the crappy blinds her father had kept over the windows. Annoyed, she buried her head deeper into the mountains of pillows she had on her bed. Still, the rays of sun blared in her face, keeping her awake. She tried rolling onto her stomach, but found she was being held in place. Both infront and from behind. Brielle snapped her head around to see what was holding her in place. Tig lay behind her, his right arm holing her close, drooling on the pillow he was using.

_Christ!, _Brielle thought. _I've only been back in Charming for a whole day and I've already dropped my shorts?_ Gently, she retracted his arm and slipped out of bed. Looking down upon herself, a relieved sigh escaped her. All of the clothing she had put on last night for pajamas were still on. Black sweatpants, dorky Domo t-shirt, even her giraffe print panties. _Thank God I behaved myself._

After going number one, like always every morning, she brushed her teeth. Brielle hated having stanky ass breath when waking up next to someone. Setting her toothbrush back in the medicine cabinet, she left the bathroom and returned to the bed. Not long after she cuddled back next to Tig, a shrill scream pierced the air.

"Daaaaaaddddddyyyyyy!" The voice screeched, disappearing from where it started, the doorframe of the master bedroom, and vanishing in the foyer. It was the voice of her niece, Elizabeth. It made sense that she was frightened; a man that she didn't know was in her aunt's bed. The last time Elizabeth saw Tig, she was two.

"Shit." Tig groaned, rolling off of the mattress. He began to pull his socks onto his feet, boots following.

"I forgot," Brielle whimpered. "I promised Elizabeth I'd take her and Bailey to the coast for a night. Sorry, Alex." Zane appeared in her bedroom, hands on his hips. A smug, confident, know-it-all smile was on his face. Elizabeth hid behind her father's legs. "Don't even start with me, Zane."

"Wasn't going to. How was the dinner?" He asked, heaving his child onto her aunt's bed.

"It was great. You should've been there." Tig said, standing from the bed. A small frown grew on Zane's face but he quickly replaced it with a smile. "Well, I have to get going; work." Brielle nodded, pushing past Zane and the dopey German Shepard in her hallway.

Juice wasn't paying attention. The trusted eight of Clay Morrow sat in their secret room, discussing their next move. He was too enamored with the thought of Brielle. She was pretty, witty, and had a bit of sarcasm about her. There was also this sorrow, he couldn't help but feel as if she was sad. He wondered what could have gone on in LA or before she left.

"'Ey, Juice, man!" Chibbs got his attention, slapping him along side the head. "Pay some attention, boy-o."

"Sorry, guys. What do you need?" Juice apologized, ready for what was going to happen next.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you all so much for reading :D Please review, they really help, and they keep me motivated.<strong>


	3. Only Biker For Me

**Sorry guys. Not sure how long it's been since my last update (my days have been feeling longer since I'm not working...weird I know), and I've been having an awful headache for the past couple days. So I decided to update early so that way I can get to bed early lol. My days tend to consist of sleeping late into the day and stay up early into the mornings :P. Disclaimer: I do not own any FX/SOA material, ideas, themes, or characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

The classroom Brielle was given at Kennedy Junior High School was perfect. It was the right size, right shape. She had been allowed to hang whatever kind of posters and pictures she wanted on the walls. Brielle had put up an old Kennedy campaign poster, a few fake paintings of important dates in history, a poster of John Lennon with "Imagine" at the bottom, and mounted the framed, folded flad that had been on her father's casket before he had been buried. Her first week had gone perfectly. The children behaved and every class had fun and no class was bigger than 25. Her coworkers were the nicest she'd ever had.

She gathered the papers she had put into stacks organized by class. Brielle tried to get it together quickly before the janitor locked the front doors and she had to walk around the whole school to get to her Corvette. She much preferred taking her 70's sports car over the Mistubishi she had bought. The glances and admiring looks she got pleased her.

The heels on her feet clicked on the tile in the school as she traveled from the bowels of the school to the car. And of course, now that her hands were full, the red Samsung flip-phone in her back pocket decided to ring. Brielle cursed the caller, juggling her papers and book bag to get the phone to her ear in time.

"What?" She snapped, holding the phone to her ear with the firm press of her shoulder.

"Woah, easy. It's just me." A voice came through the other line. Brielle narrowed her eyes.

"Me. Me who?" Brielle snarled.

"Me. Zane. Christ, thought you'd recognize my voice." He seemed to be pouting.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She frowned, opening the front door with her hip. "I have alot of things in my hands right now, I got a bit impatient."

"It's cool, baby sister." Zane crooned. "Hey listen, there's a carnival in a couple days. I'm going to take Elizabeth. Ty, Henry, and Kell doesn't want to go. Wanna come with?"

"Oh," She was at a loss for words. Brielle reached her car, fumbling for her keys, finally finding them, and unlocking the door. Now that she thought about it, she remember Elizabeth talking excitedly about it the other day. She tossed the papers and bookbag into the passenger's seat. "I hadn't really thought about it. When is it exactly?"

"Saturday."

"Zane!" She cried, exasperated. "That's not a couple days! It's tomorrow, you jackass. What time?"

"Sorry, sis." A chuckle came through the phone, telling her that he wasn't really sorry. Brielle sighed and plopped into the driver's seat. "Could you get Lizzy and I at three?"

"Me? Can't you drive yourself?" Brielle frowned, putting the key in the ignition. The car binged in protest to the open door.

"Lizzy got her hopes up for the 'Vette to take us to the carnival." A roll of the eyes came from Brielle. She loved her car more than any other monetary possession she had. It was all of her father put into one thing. It even had his favorite car freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. Although Brielle preferred the scent of vanilla (which hung in her Outlander), a red tree smelling like cinnamon gave the car it's spicy smell her dad liked. And as much as she loved that little girl, she didn't like the potential mess all children posed in the seat of a car. There wasn't even a backseat in her car. An exasperated sigh left her.

"Fine. I'll pick you guys up at three."

"You're an amazing little sister. Hey, I have to go to the clubhouse, and the middle school is right around the corner, right? Why don't you meet me there?"

Brielle placed her feet on the brake and clutch, the engine roaring to life with a simple turn of the key. The kids who sat in the front of the school, waiting for their parents to get them "oo-ed" as the Corvette roared to life. She took the right turn out of the parking lot, like aways, to get home.

On the way, Brielle stopped at a coffee shop and got a chilly frappuccino. It wasn't easy to shift with a coffee in her hands; of course the 70's had no cup holders. Once she sucked the last of her coffee out of the cup, it got tossed in the plastic bag she used for trash. The sudden need to feel the wind in her hair struck and, while at a stoplight, she pressed the button for the soft-top roof to retract.

The sun was still high when Brielle pulled into the lot. There were a few stragglers who were retrieving their cars from the Teller-Morrow auto garage. Many people stared at the car she drove, stopping in midconversation to admire the thirty year old car. She backed the Corvette into a spot next to the blackened out Chevy van the Sons used when it was needed. Brielle got out of the car and, ignoring the cat calls and stares, walked to the front door of the club. At the picnic bench that was placed in front of the door was Tig and a few of the other guys. Jax was the first to see her and almost ran the short distance to meet her.

"I hear you're teachin' at Kennedy now." Jax said, after a tight hug. "The place where you, me, and Ope began to raise Hell."

A smile grew on Brielle's face. "Are you kidding? We started that shit in third grade."

"Well, I'm betting that you're the apple in every male teacher's eye there." Jax pretended knocking her in the chin with a gentle fist. Brielle caught the gaze of Tig over Jax's shoulder. Her smile turned slim.

"I'm sure if I am, they should be sleeping with one eye open." She whispered to her closest friend. Jax chuckled and turned around, heading inside the clubhouse, a few others followed.

"What're you doing at the clubhouse?" Tig asked, sporting his hands on his hips.

"What? I can't visit?" She pouted, giving him puppy dog eyes. "Besides, Zane asked me to meet him here."

"Ooooohhh, yeah. That's right," Tig lifted his hand, and curled a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Zane asked if he could stop being half in-half out."

Brielle closed her eyes momentarily and laughed a bit. "I'm not surprised."

"So what was Jax sayin' to you about the other teachers at the school?" Tig asked, playing coy.

"Nothing, just that I'm probably the prettiest woman ever." Brielle teased, earning an other smile from Tig.

"You are lookin' rather sexy..." He purred. Brielle "ooh-ed" and reached up to give him a gentle kiss.

She felt the cool press of the six gold rings he wore, three on each hand, on her cheeks as he held her face in his hands. Butterflies bred in her stomach as the kiss deepened, their tounges brushing against each other. She wondered what she was doing; it had only been a week that she had left Jeremy and Los Angeles. Brielle felt relieved as Tig pulled away and held her close to his chest. She wondered if it was odd for her to get back with Tig almost as soon as she got back to Charming.

Tig slung an arm around her and brought the teacher inside the club. They settled at the bar, Half-Sack was behind it and trying to serve all of the howling members who begged for their liquor. Brielle watched the poor guy scramble around serving beers and shots and picking up empty glasses. She wanted to get up and help the kid; after all, she had done his job back when her dad was alive. Brielle held onto Tig firmly as she sat in the swivel bar stool and he stood.

Zane walked in the clubhouse, his leather cut slung over one arm, sunglasses over his eyes. Most of the members who knew him welcomed the son of Raymond Clark with the typical biker hug. He swaggered over to where his sister and Tig were at.

"What's this? Back together already?" Zane asked, looking as if nothing pleased him more than to see the two of them back together.

"No, Zane. Maybe I like hugs." Brielle stuck her tounge out at her brother.

A hearty laugh came from the Sergeant at Arms. He gave Brielle one last kiss on the lips and lead Zane to the table where the others were convening. The doors shut and silence fell over the main room in the club. The only ones remaining at the bar were Half-Sack and Brielle.

"So, Brielle," Half-Sack called to her. "You thirsty?"

"Mmn, yeah. Surprise me." She truely was surprised as Half-Sack retrieved a bottle of Coors, uncapping it for her.

The teacher practically drooled as she reached for the bottle and put it to her lips. Half-Sack turned away, needing to complete the bar chores. Kip retrieved the clean glasses from the dishwasher and put them in the cupboards with their bretheren. The prospect fished for something to say. He hated silence and constant curiousity. Plucking up some courage, he turned back to Brielle. She jumped a bit as he turned to face her.

"Can I ask you something?" Half-Sack looked down at the bar.

"Sure." She nodded, taking a sip.

"No offense or anything, but what makes you so special?" He saw the almost offended look on her face and reworded his question. "How does everyone know you so well? And what's up with you and Tig? I've never seen him like that with any woman."

Brielle set her beer down with a gentle thunk on the bartop and flicked her sidebangs out of her face. "Not sure where to start. How about the beginning?" She drained the bottle and shook her head as Half-Sack went to get another, declining the second beer. "Let's see, my mom and dad got married right after graduating high school; it wasn't really normal in the 60's to have a kid out of wedlock. Zane was the first born, I was the middle child and Lily was the youngest; all born and raised in Charming. Dad went overseas before I was born, I've been told that he fought with Clay and Piney. And when he came back, he joined SAMCRO. Daddy wasn't one of the Original 9, but he took a chair after one of the 9 was shot down."

"How did you're mom feel about the club?" Half-Sack asked, enthused with the story.

"She wasn't it's number one fan, but she was loyal and a good old lady. Zane, Lily, and I grew up in the club. Jax and Opie became mine and Zane's closest friends and the four of us caused alot of trouble. There were a lot of people we didn't get along with, but high school was a great four years. Anyway, I officially met Alexander Trager when I was either a sophmore or a junior, I can't remember. He had been born and rasied in Charming, but he was a few years older so he left school before me. We began to date and-what's that look for?"

Kip, without his realizing, had been giving Brielle an odd look for a short while. "Don't you think you were a bit young to be dating Tig? I mean...it's Tig." Brielle laughed, humored by Half-Sack's perception of Tig.

"He wasn't always a ladykiller. Not back then. He joined the Marines when I was a senior or so, toured around Kuwait and Kenya. I think Japan was one of the countries he visited, too. Zane, Jax, and Opie had been patched in, and I went to college. Majored in History and mechanics. Tig joined the Sons after he was honorably discharged."

"What about your sister?" Kip asked, glancing over at the secluded meeting area. He wondered what was going on in there. He almost regretting asking about her sister from the look on her face.

"Lily died in a car accident. My mom was driving her and I to where Tig and I were living. Lil was in college and it was cheapest for her to live with me and Tig. Someone had put a spike strip in the road, and normally, they only pop the tires, but somehow the car spun out. We slammed into the guardrail and well...I'm sure you can figure the rest out."

* * *

><p>The doors flew open and the club leaders filed out of the room, all clapping Zane on the back, their slaps echoed off of his cut. Tig was one of the last to leave the table. He looked at the bar and frowned when all he saw was bikers. His eyes swept all over the main room until they fell on the shadowy figure of Brielle heading towards the door. Tig took two giant steps to get to Half-Sack.<p>

"What the Hell did you say to her?" He almost growled.

"Nothing! Jesus, Tig," Half-Sack swore as the Sergeant at Arms held him by the shirt collar. "I asked her about why she was special to the club. She told me about her sister and then left."

Tig growled and headed towards the door. He hoped she hadn't jumped into her car and left. When he got outside, Tig saw Brielle sitting on the picnic table a lit cigarette in her hand. Juice sat next to her, lighting his own cigarette. He leaned against the outside wall, eaves dropping on thier conversation.

"Everything okay?" Juice spoke, glancing at her. Brielle simply nodded, a pillar of smoke exited her lips.

"Yeah, I'm fine, everything's good. I haven't thought about my sister and parents for awhile." Brielle shrugged, taking another drag. Something in Tig's lungs itched; he wanted a cigarette too. "And now that I have, I'm kind of mad at myself for going to LA."

"Why's that?" The young biker asked, laying back on his elbows.

"Charming's my home. I think I wasn't ever supposed to leave." Tig could hear the pain in her voice that seemed to hurt more than the memory of her dead sister. He knew the memory that had come to mind. The older biker felt as if his heart dropped to his bladder and his stomach replaced it. Silently, he took a cigarette from the carton that was in his cut pocket and lit it.

Juice didn't seem to notice Brielle's heartache. "So, what's going on with you and TIg?"

"Hmn, well, as of right now...nothing that means we're together."

"What's the history between you two?"

"Are you seriously asking that?" Brielle giggled. "I told all that to Half-Sack; you can ask him." Tig stood up striaght; certainly she hadn't told him everything? "Let's just say there's a lot of history between us."

"Would you like to go to Fun Town on Sunday with me? I'll be busy tomorrow..." Juice jumped into the fast lane while going thirty miles per hour. Tig narrowed his eyes while the woman at the bench laughed.

"You're cute Juice," Brielle stood from the bench and facing him. Behind Juice she saw Tig, winking nonchalantly. "Really, you are. But maybe Jax or the others haven't told you that there's really only one biker for me."

* * *

><p>Jeremy Schultz studied the photos that were on his desk. The private investigator had taken three pictures of the target. Really, the investigator had taken many rolls worth of pictures, but Jeremy had only been presented with three. He was surprised that she wasnn't even trying to hide. Or at least keep a low profile.<p>

All of the pictures Jeremy had were of his fiancée - now ex-fiancée - with at least one biker. The Sons of Anarchy were back in that crazy woman's life. An exhausted sigh left his lungs and he examined the pictures again. In the first one, she sat on a bench with a biker who had a mohawk and tribal lightning bolts on the sides of his head. Jeremy was angered by the cigarette that stuck out of her mouth. He hated cigarettes.

The lawyer tossed the picture aside and examined the second one. His ex leaned against another biker, this one had curly brown hair and facial hair. Samuel had told him that the man in this picture was Alexander Trager, and the woman was definitely Brielle Clark. Jeremy frowned at the kiss that Trager was placing on her forehead. The last was of Brielle standing in a crowd of bikers and women. Someone had said something funny, as there were happy expressions on everyone's face. Of course she was snuggled up to Trager. Her right hand rested on his chest and the flashy ring Jeremy had proposed with on her ring finger.

He was infuriated. She kept the ring? Jeremy had looked everywhere in the house for that damn thing. From what the investigator had told him, they were going to a carnival tomorrow. Slamming the pictures down on the glass desk, Jeremy stood and stormed out of the office. If he wanted to get to Charming before tomorrow evening, he'd have to leave now.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, so the part were Half-Sack hands Brielle the beer, I didn't mean to make her seem like a drunk haha. Next chapter will be Fun Town and finding the rapist and then the meeting between Tara and Brielle. You'll see... :] you'll like it :D so review please. :D<strong>


	4. That's a Bozo NoNo

**I know it's been a while since I last post but I've been rather sick and busy with beta-ing. Also, I rewrote this whole chapter because I felt what I was originally writing was getting too complicated. Thank you for all those who read and review and subscribe, it really makes me wanna keep going. So you guys also know, I'm not going to write about EVERY episode. Just the ones that I feel are relevent to Tig and Brielle's relationship and uberimportant to the show. Although every episode is important, I fell writing about every single one would be overkill.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter four<strong>

It was early. Way too early for cell phones to be ringing. Especially on a Saturday. Brielle grumbled and rolled over in her bed, hoping the noise would go away. Finally, the ringer shut off and silence reigned over the bedroom. Breille sighed contently; she'd call whoever it was later. Not a second after she shut her eyes to sleep, the phone began to ring again. The teacher sat up in bed, groaning menacingly. A hand slapped onto the nightside table where her cell phone was. She found the phone before the ringer shut off. Brielle was ready to give the caller a piece of her mind. She hadn't even bothered looking at the caller id.

"What? It's six in the damn morning. Most normal people are sleeping." She snapped.

"My appologies to the early wake up, Ms. Clark. But something has come up." The principle of the middle school, her boss, spoke calmly.

"Oh, Mr. Skiles; I'm sorry. I didn't look at the caller id." Brielle slapped a hand to her forehead. Something was seriously wrong with her.

"It's quite alright. But I need you to come up to the school for a moment."

"Can't it wait until Monday?" She pouted. Sleep was calling to her and she was ready to give in.

"I'm afraid not, Ms. Clark. We have some papers we need you to sign."

* * *

><p>Saturdays were always slow at the Teller-Morrow Auto Shop. Most people were picking up their cars for whatever they planned that weekend. There were a few people bringing their cars in, but not many. However, it was early in the morning and therefore early in the game. Who knew if today was going to be a slow day or not?<p>

Tig tinkered with a '70 Datsun 240Z that was actually supposed to have left the shop several days ago. It hadn't been his choice to work on the car; Clay had shouldered the job onto him since Juice didn't have much experiance with cars that were older than him. Tig felt like hitting the younger biker. It wan't fair that Tig had to spend time on a project that wasn't his. Not to mention, there were other cars that needed his attention. His frustration mounted as the solution to the car's problem kept slipping futher and futher away from him.

"What's the problem with this geezer?" A troubled, and wavering, voice spoke from behind Tig. He stood from looking under the hood to see Brielle, her hazel eyes reddened, shining, and swollen. As if she had been crying.

"Won't run, steam comes out of the tailpipe and the owner complains about having to constantly refill the coolant." He sighed as she brushed past him. Brielle looked under the hood for one second and looked back at him.

"The head gasket's cracked, baby." She sniffed.

"How can you see that?" Tig stuck his head under the hood again. With her manicured pointer finer, she showed him.

"Just look at the side of the engine block. There's the top half and bottom half, the gasket's in the middle, right?" Tig nodded, retrieving the pocket LED flashlight and pointing it at the engine. She ran her finger down the side of the block until she found the crack. "Exhaust gases are being being forced into the cooling system, which over heats the engine, thus running the car out of coolant. The increased engine wear, because of motor oil mixing with antifreeze, also wears the car down. What's probably making the steam come from the tailpipe is coolant leaking into the cylinders, causing the exhaust to issue steam and the catalytic converter to be damaged. This guy's lucky. It doesn't appear too bad right now, mostly cause everything's closed up, but if a large amount of coolant does this, hydrolock can occur. And you know how much of a pain in the ass that is."

Tig clicked the tiny flashlight off and straightened his back to look at her. A crooked grin grew on his face. "You're so smart." He leaned in for a kiss at she straightened too. With a half-assed smile, Brielle gave him the best kiss she could muster. She just wasn't in the mood to be huggy-kissy.

"That's what my Auto Mechanics, History, and teaching degrees say. But they're apparently not good enough for Kennedy Middle School." Brielle frowned, looking away. Tig was confused.

"What do you mean?"

"I got fired this morning. Someone complained about the company I was in when I was arrested in ten years ago. And the company I'm in now." Her eyes flitted around the shop but ultimately landed on Tig.

"They can't fire you over that. That was ten years ago. You and I havn't really gotten back together anyway."

"They didn't. I got fired because I didn't tell them about the arrest. I figured I didn't need to, I had worked there once before and the principle was okay with it then."

"You spent one night in the CPD holding cells." Tig narrowed his eyes. He had half a mind to go down to the school and knock some sense into the principle. But he controlled himself; Brielle wouldn't be happy with him if he had.

"I know, I was there. Obviously policies changed along with the new principle. Anyway, where's Clay? I need to talk to him."

* * *

><p>"The answer's a no." Clay growled, standing next to his chair in the meeting room. Although it was just Brielle and Clay, the doors had been shut.<p>

"Oh, Clay, please? I need this job!" Brielle frowned at the man who had practically raised her after her father died.

"You got the one at the school!" Clay looked down at her as gave a small grin. He hadn't really been listening to Brielle anyway. "All those kids need you."

"Clay, I don't think you heard me when I said 'I got fired.' I can't go back to the school. Not to teach, anyway. And what place, other than Teller-Morrow, is going to hire me now that I got fired? Please, can I just have my old job back?" Brielle turned on the puppy dog eyes and clasped her hands together.

Clay rolled his eyes and relaxed his neck, his head falling backwards slowly. An exhausted sigh left the President of SAMCRO. Clay didn't have any biological children of his own and sure, Jax was his step-kid and Clay considered him to be the real deal, but there was always something he missed on having someone who looked like him or had the same personality. In all honesty, he had been surprised when Brielle had picked him to cling to after Ray died. Clay knew that Ray would have asked him to take care of his three kids and if he could have any child legitimately be his, it would be Brielle.

He returned his gaze to her. "If I give you your old job back, that includes the whole deal. Being on call 24/7, sworn to secrecy, the whole shebang." Brielle nodded solemnly. "It also includes doing club business when asked."

"Do you mean like last time? Or like one of the old ladies?" She asked, a little confused.

"Well, yes. And no. If you need to do an old lady chore, you'll know. But I'm talking about the stuff the guys do. We need people we can trust, and even though women are not typically allowed in the club, you are an exception. You're Ray-Ray's kid, Zane's little sister. You've been around us long enough to know how to handle yourself. I'll need a full unanimous vote on the club stuff, but you're good on the job." Clay put his stubbly cigar in his mouth. It was practically spit out when he was attacked by the 110 pound girl throwing her arms around him.

"Thank you so much, Clay. You really don't know how much of a lifesaver you are." He could hear the smile in her voice. The burly biker put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in those hazel eyes Raymond had given all of his children.

"You're family; I would have done it for Lily too."

Brielle nodded awkwardly. "Oh, do I get my own tool area or-"

"Bring your father's tools. You'll put your stuff with Half-Sack; Kip needs to realize because he's got some shiny crap in his tool box it doesn't mean he's a master mechanic. By the way, if anyone asks you for old lady chores that aren't grocery shopping or babysitting, and they aren't Tig, they answer to me."

* * *

><p>The roar of a motorcycle came to a halt in front of Brielle Clark's house. Crickets chirped in the new found silence the bike had left after it shut off. Tig got off the bike and trekked the lawn to the front door. Without knocking, he opened the door, and walked in, shutting the door behind him. Exhaustion crashed on his shoulders, a muscle tightened and he attempted at massaging it. In the living room, the tv was on some news channel and the stereo was shut off. Zane Clark's dog trotted to where Tig was, tail wagging, begging for a pat. For a short moment Tig gave the dog a little loving, even letting her give him a couple lics in his stubly cheeks.<p>

His US Marine Corps trained ears lead him to the master bedroom. The shower had just turned off, but there was a hair-dryer on. Without bothering Brielle in the bathroom, Tig went to the bed, sitting on the side he had always slept on. A sigh left him as he began to remove his leather cut, boots, and the KA-BAR the military had given him from where he kept it on his belt. The knife he set on the bedside table.

Behind him, the bathroom door clicked open. There stood the lean, curvy, freshly dried, and naked body of Brielle. She jumped at the sight of Tig sitting on her bed. Although she knew he was coming over, she hadn't been aware that he was already there.

"Alex! Jesus, think you could give a girl a warning?" She sighed, putting one hand on her hip and the other ran through her hair. Tig noticed it was dry. He also couldn't help noticing the curves of her body, the beautiful swell of her breasts.

"Sorry." He shrugged.

He shut his eyes, looking away and returning to the chore of taking off his socks. Tig knew it was a long shot, him and Brielle getting back together. He wasn't sure if she had recovered from when he told her he was with someone else years ago. Of course he hadn't been with another girl; it was Tig's way of making Brielle do what she wanted with out feeling held back to Charming.

The sudden wafting of the flowery scents of her conditioner drifted in to Tig's nostrils. Her soft hands fell lightly on his cheeks, lifting his head up from looking at the ground. Brielle kneeled on the carpeted floor infront of him, her hazel eyes filled with understanding. Tig took quick gasp of air as Brielle put her lips on his.

A moan left Tig's throat as he pulled the slender woman onto the bed, their kisses deepening, tounges crossing paths. The clothes that remained on Tig were soon falling to the floor. Hands blindly touched, leaving no place untouched. Instinct made bells go off in Tig's head as he moved into his prefered position. A thin smile grew on his lips as Brielle moved to here she needed to be.

* * *

><p>Brielle couldn't sleep. She just...couldn't get comfortable. Her neck began to ache when she was on her back, her cartilege piercing was acting up when she rolled onto her left side, and on her right was Tig's backside. Although they had slept in the same bed for years, she hated facing his back. Brielle hated having to toss and turn to find a comfortable sleeping position; Tig was not a light sleeper, but Brielle tended to have a habit of being a heavy turner. She whimpered quietly, wanting to scream out of despiration. It was two in the morning and she had been up since eight that morning.<p>

The German Shepard that Zane had left at her house, due to his divorce with Kelli, began to bark her brown and black little head off. Brielle was slightly preturbed; she wanted quietness to allow her to sleep soundly. There was something, in her mind, that clicked though. Something was wrong. Bailey never barked unless there was someone new in the house. Or if she had seen a squirrel. Considering the dog slept on one of Brielle's couches, she doubted the dog had seen a small rodent.

Sitting up, Brielle got out of bed and went to her dresser, pulling on a pair of underware she found in the darkness. As she was heading back to her bedside table, she stepped on Tig's cut that he had dropped on the floor. Brielle picked it up and put her slender arms through the sleeves that had been designed for a man's shoulders. Once she reached her bedside table, she opened the drawrer, her father's old KA-BAR sat on top of a couple books. The biker babe unsheathed the knife, ready to protect herself.

"Bailey," She hissed, snapping her fingers as she entered the living room. Obediently, the dog came to her, tail wagging and whimpers escaping her. The dog wanted to find who was invading her territory. Instinct called her to draw blood. Brielle went to the front door, KA-BAR in one hand, dog at her side. "Try and be gentle, will you?" She spoke to the dog.

Cautiously, she began to turn the deadbolt lock with her empty hand. Brielle's heart beat at a mile a minute as she now set her hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly. Bailey began to bounce around, a mixture of low growls and whimpering was her way of saying she was anxious to catch the perpetrator. Brielle jumped when she threw the door open and there was someone standing right in front of her.

"Dear Jesus! Jeremy, what _the hell_ are you doing here?" She snapped, standing in front of the dog who growled at the lawyer she had dumped.

He stood at the doorstep, looming over her short five foot five frame with his six feet of height. Brielle hid the knife in her hand behind her back. She narrowed her hazel eyes at the LA native. Jeremy wasn't bad looking, blond hair, brown eyes, and surfer boy skin he earned by surfing every weekend. Although he was smart, rich, and good looking, Jeremy Krauss was not the man she loved.

"What are you wearing?" He spoke in a whisper. Brielle thought she heard a slight whimper in his throat as he stared at the cut she had picked up.

"What are you doing at my house-better question, why are you here? Don't you think me packing all of my shit and leaving was my way of saying 'don't look for me?'"

Jeremy hesitated for a moment. "Why did you leave? Was it something I said? Something I did? I don't get it. I've been going crazy for weeks trying to figure out what it was that made you leave." He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders.

Brielle flinched. Jeremy saw the movement and raised his hand, which Brielle matched with pointing the tip of the KA-BAR at his throat. The sound of barefeet on the title flooring put a smile on Brielle's face. Jeremy blanched as the door opened wider, the curly haired biker appearing behind Brielle. He couldn't help but notice the biker hadn't any clothes on.

"Is there a problem here?" Tig spoke, putting his arm around Brielle's shoulders.

"No. Jeremy was just leaving." She hissed, poking the lawyer's Adam's Apple with the knife.

"So, you're throwing everything away, everything we had, for him? We're really done?"

"I'm not to sure who you are, brother, but I'd say it's quite obvious what her decision was." Tig took his arm from Brielle's shoulders and put both hands on his hips. A sigh left Jeremy who ran a hand through his hair.

"Can...can I at least have my ring back?"

With a primitive like growl, Brielle grabbed the man by the shirt collar, pulling him to her level. The blade was now pressed against his throat, her fierce hazel eyes burned into his. A sneer grew on her face.

"If I'm not mistaken, you _gave_ it to me. Now, I'm not sure if you really know who the man behind me is, but rest assured, you do not want to find out." Brielle spoke with venom. Hands rested on her cut covered shoulders; she saw the glint of Tig's gold rings, and let go of Jeremy's collar. With a gentle pull, Tig brought her back into the house as Jeremy retreated to his car. they watched him drive away before shutting the door.

Without hesitation, she locked the deadbolt and the doorknob lock, setting her knife on the foyer table. A shaky breath left her lungs. Tig twirled her around to face him, placing his lips onto hers, mashing their noses together. Brielle pulled away from the biker and took off the cut, handing it back to him.

"That," Tig pointed to the door. "Is the exact reason why the guys let you in."

* * *

><p><strong>Alright, for you curious Cathys, Brielle is NOT a patched in member, will not be, and most likely will not be having a bike of her own. While I think it would be cool for a girl to be in SOA, I also think there has to be a line drawn. Brie's probably not going to be involved in a lot of the club's actions but will be privy to the info, as if she were part of the club. Also, I'm probably not going to write about Zane and his kiddos as much. There's already a TON of characters but there will be updates on him :] Tara will be introduced soon. In the meantime keep reading and reviewing. Thanks c:<strong>


	5. Ever Been to Attica?

**I forgot to mention that in the last chapter, I got my info about head gaskets from wiki. Lol, I'm not THAT smart when it comes to cars, but I'd like to be. I love working on them :3**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter five<strong>

Tig was fuming. First, Clay makes him stay in Charming for the night, doing some bullshit prospect job with Juice. He couldn't believe he was missing the party. Brielle had even been allowed to go! Tig found it extremely unfair Clay had made him stay behind. And second, Juice, the King of the Retards, drugged a killer Doberman with crank instead of the sleeping pills that were in the safe.

"Just drive." Tig growled, shoving the truck keys into Juice's hand. "Lookit my ass!" Silence fell over the two men in the cab of the truck. Tig did his best not to get blood on the seats of Unser's truck and Juice kept his eyes peeled for cops.

Juice wondered what was going on at the patchover party right now. He had never gone to a Devil's Tribe party, let alone a patchover, but Tig had been bitching all day about not being able to go. Apparently, the parties were to die for. Juice had become slightly annoyed by Tig as he complained about the "young, tight, perfect pussy" that was at the Devil's Tribe. The younger biker wondered how he could just sit there and whine about missing out on having sex when he was quite obviously in a relationship with Brielle.

"Can I ask you something?" Juice sighed, knowing Tig was going to say something rude to him.

"What? What in the whole sweet, wide, world can I say that would please you?" Tig snapped, holding his hand to his right buttcheek.

"It's just, how can you bitch and moan about not being able to sleep with a Devil's Tribe girl, when you got Brie?" Juice glanced at his fellow club member and motorcycle enthusiast. Tig glared at the driver.

"I don't think that's any of your business."

"Alright, that's fine," Juice shrugged. "Do you think she's staying loyal to you?"

"Will you just drive?" Tig snapped. A calm settled over the more violent of the two and a sigh left him. "Brielle's always been loyal to me. No matter what party she's at or if I was in another country. Brielle Clark is just...loyal. Now drive. And no more questions about my personal life with anyone."

Juice silenced himself, knowing better than to say any more. There was something in the back of his head that told him that Tig didn't really care whether he was loyal to her or not. But if Brielle even looked at another guy wrong, Juice guessed Tig would have a fit. He hated seeing couples, especially biker ones, go through rough patches. There was no denying that Tig and Brielle had major chemistry. If Tig ever took over the club, it seemed extremely possible the two would have a bond like Clay and Gemma; unbreakable. But it was highly unlikely that Clay would leave Tig as his successor since he was so close to Jax. Juice wondered, the relationship between Tig and Brielle had obviously been very strong at one point; what had weakened it?

The truck rumbled down the street, headlights illuminating the dark patches between streetlights. An awkward silence fell between them and Juice wished he had used the sleeping pills instead of the crank. Tig would have been in a much better mood if he had. Juice pulled into the Teller-Morrow and SAMCRO lot, backing into the loading dock. On the dock sat barrels of dismembered AK's, disguised as oil drums.

"Ever been to Ireland?" Juice asked, trying to make simple conversation, loading barrels onto the flatbed.

"Shut up." Tig stated, placing the flat end of the moving dolly under the barrel they were currently working on.

"It's not my fault that you got bit," Juice tried being civil. There was no working with this guy. He was either rude or really rude. Juice seriously doubted how Brielle lived with it. "Alright? You didn't specify what kind of drug," Tig straightened, a menacing look on his face. "I am not happy about being here either. At least you and I could have a decent conversation."

"What? What'd you want? You wanna bond?" Tig narrowed his eyes as Juice nodded a bit. "You wanna get closer? Fine." The former Marine gave a shrug and began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.

"What're you doin'?" Juice had a hint of disgust in his voice.

"I'm gonna dunk my balls in your mouth. You're gonna gag, I'm gonna laugh, we'll be best friends forever."

Juice looked away, slightly appalled, even if Tig was joking. He looked back at his colleauge with a helpless expression. "Why you gotta be that way?"

"Ever been to Attica?"

* * *

><p>I woke in the morning to the slam of a door and the sound of violent vomitting. A groan left my lips; I probably shouldn't have slept on that couch. Way too uncomfortable. Silently, I wished I had taken the single bed like Jury had offered last night. I sneezed several times, unhappy my allergies were misbehaving this morning. At the bar stood Tig and Juice, Tig drinking straight from a bottle of Tequila, slightly upset they had missed the party.<p>

With a cough or two, I stood from the couch, Tig and Juice turning their heads to look at me. A small smile grew on Tig's face and I returned it. Juice waved from behind the other biker, a totally goofy grin on his face. With a laugh, I stretched and walked over to the bar, my heels clicked on the concrete floor as I made her way towards them.

"Morning guys," I spoke quietly, allowing Tig to wrap his arms around me while I put my arms around him. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"No, thanks." Juice shook his head. I looked up at Tig.

"How 'bout you?"

"Unless you can reverse time, no." A frown replaced the smile on his face. Ignoring his attitude, I kissed the tip of Tig's nose. Quietly, I excused myself and went to the bathroom.

Tig snatched the bottle of Tequila off of the bar again and sat on a barstool, moping about missing the party. It looked like it had been a good one from the amount of bikers, hookers, peanut shells, empty cans and bottles that lay strewn around the clubhouse. Juice sat next to Tig, chatting with Half-Sack who sat on the other side of the bar. A groan left someone as he entered the main room; Juice peered over his shoulder and saw Clay.

"I hate you." Tig snapped. After Clay was Happy, a girl held herself close to him, wearing nothing but her lacey underwear, heels, and a smile.

"Wassup, killer?" Happy teased.

"I hate ALL of you." He declared louder.

"So Tig, you never said anything about Brielle being such a great partier." Half-Sack spoke up. Juice widened his eyes and made a guillotine motion at his neck. This morning was _not_ the morning to poke a Tig's bruised ego. Half-Sack got the memo and tried to cover his blunder. "I just mean that she talks with everyone and makes them feel welcome, you know? You can trust me, she didn't do anything to upset you."

Tig grunted. "Huh, yeah. She's a _real_ welcoming person. I would be surprised if her "make everyone comfortable" routine didn't involve a bedroo-"

"That's nice, Alex. Real nice." Brielle snapped, her presence was suddenly made aware of as she returned from the bathroom.

"Aw, shit." Juice sighed. Half-Sack looked at the ground, wishing he hadn't said anything.

Tig groaned, standing up from the barstool. He hated chasing her as she picked up her coat from the wrack and went to the door. "Brie, that's not what I ment. I slipped up, you know I'm upset about not being able to be here last-"

"Yeah, I get it, Alex. I'm going back to Charming; got a couple cars in the shop that need to go. See you when you get home, alright?" She reached on the toes of her heels to give him a kiss. "Be careful, will you?"

Tig turned from the front door and stormed back to the barstool. Today was just not his day. And now he felt worse knowing that he had embarassed her. Tig knew she was going to hold his over his head for as long as possible. He hated himself. Tig frowned deeper, placing the bottle to his lips and taking a great gulp.

* * *

><p>Ruthlessly, I yanked at the wrench, loosening a bolt that held the bumper onto a 1992 Land Rover. This bolt was giving me one major pain in my damn ass. Whoever owned this bucket of bolts hadn't taken care of it since it had been bought, but they were inconceivably rich and told me to spare no expense. He had even said, that if it be needed, to overhaul every part. Apparently the guy was getting the truck fixed for his 15 year old daughter who expected to Rover to be ready by her 16th birthday. I couldn't help but think of this girl as a brat. If my father was going to give me a car for my birthday, I'd get what I get, and I wouldn't throw a fit. Kids coulf be so selfish these day; but then again, who wasn't?<p>

I laid on a creeper cart, the long sleeves of my grey shirt pushed up and hair tied in a ponytail as to keep it out of my face. There was the loud rumbling of one bike as it pulled into the lot and parked. Still slightly burnt by what Tig had said, I ignored the sound of someone walking into the shop. Finally, the bolt relented and I twisted it out of it's spot, dropping it in the old peanutbutter jar I used for loose bolts that were to be put back.

Someone stood infront of the SUV, as if waiting for me to acknowledge them. From what I could see, it was one of the bikers, probably Tig. Continuing to ignore him, I began to loosen the next bolt. A boot suddenly replaced the empty space between her legs. I gasped as the leg attached to the foot in the boot pulled me out from under the truck. Tig towered over me, thumbs latched in his beltloops.

"I'm still mad at you." I hissed, pushing myself back under the truck.

"C'mon, Brie. You haven't talked to me since I got back from Indian Hills the other day. I was angry and Half-Sack said something that made me say what I did-"

"No one can make you say anything, Alex." Honestly, I didn't really want to hear his excuses.

Tig rolled his eyes and put his foot back on the creeper, retrieving me from under the truck again. "I'm sorry."

I breathed out slowly and placed the wrench I was currently using on the ground. Holding my hands out for Tig to help me up, I waited for him to take them. He took my hands and in one little tug, I was standing. It was easy to tell that Tig was surprised by my height today. Usually, I stood at 5' 9" but today I was at my normal 5' 5" with my favorite flatfooted black VANS on my tiny feet.

"Yeah, I know I'm short today. Lowell gave me a weird look, too." Looking at the ground, I put my hands on his chest. "Look, all that's in the past. What happens on a run, stays on a run."

"Yeah," Tig nodded glumly; perhaps he was hiding something? "Anyway, are you going to the fundraiser tonight?"

Brielle nodded. "I am."

"Well, we need you to play nice because Kyle Hobart's going to be there." Tig watched my face turn stoney. He knew I wouldn't be happy about it, and I wondered if he had said something for me in the vote. I doubted if many in the club were alright with this. "Oh, and we're going to have a guest soon. We're picking him up from Stockton."

"Have fun." With a roll of my eyes, I turned to the truck. Tig grabbed my wrist and yanked me back to face him.

"You," Tig put his pointer finger on my sternum. "Get to pick him up with us-"

"Oh, Tig!"

"Calm down, baby," The biker purred, brushing my hair behind my ear. "You're going to rid in the van. Just extra security."

I scratched the spot in the back of my head that always itched when I became irritated. there was nothing I liked about this chore; it was a prospect job and way below my ability level. After years of loyalty to the Sons, I wondered why Clay was making me do this crap now. Well, there were some new guys in the club, maybe they wanted to see me "in the field" before making a decision. Rolling my eyes again, I crossed my arms and focused all of my weight on one leg. "Alright, fine. I'll go along."

* * *

><p>I sat in the blacked out van the belonged to SAMCRO, my legs crossed and my attitude high. Saying I didn't want to be here was an understatement. Next to me on the bench in the back of the van was Half-Sack and across from us was Jax and Clay. In the driver's seat was Juice and next to him in the passenger's seat was Piney. Tig and Elvis rode their bikes infront of the van as escorts. The KA-BAR that my father had once owned, usually I kept it in the glovebox of my car, sat on my hip.<p>

Jax reached out from his side of the van and slapped the bottom of my right foot, causing it to fall and sit next to its buddy. Narrowing my eyes, I kicked him in the knee. Like the child I knew Jax could be, he stuck his tounge my legs again, I tried to hide my smile. Juice stopped in the front lot of Stockton prison facility. Half-Sack stuck his head out of the door and called to the man named Chuck we were to watch for the next three days. Across from me, Clay moved over from his stepson.

A man with a Homer Simpson styled haircut jumped into the van, sitting inbetween the club President and VP. He wore a khaki jacket over a plain white polo shirt. Khaki pants were his choice for trousers and brown loafers were on his feet. He held his hand out for Jax to take.

"Thank you, guys," Chuck shook the hands of the father and son. "I'm really really in your debt. You have no idea how much I appreciate you helping me out."

Jax and Clay both nodded in silent "you're welcome's." I watched Chuck as he lifted the waistline of his trousers with his left hand and quickly put his right hand down his shorts. Almost instantly, Jax did a double take and inched closer to the driver's seat in replusion. Clay stared at Chuck blankly. My jaw opened just the slightest in shock and I glanced over at Half-Sack who was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Jeeeessssuuuss..." I whispered under my breath, and looked out of the back window of the van.

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah, I know I switched from thrid person to first. I've been getting a little bored with the third person POV. Also, I hope you guys didn't get too confused when I switched from third person to first. I'll probably be doing that or switching POV's from character to charcter. Tell me what you guys think; if you like it, I may rewrite 1-4. But, if ya'll don't I can rewrite this to third person. Actually, I just might rewrite 1-4 anyway. We'll see :] Sorry this took WAAAYYY too long :[<strong>


	6. Fire or Knife

**"Like the child I knew Jax could be, he stuck his tounge my legs again, I tried to hide my smile." Sorry for this crappy sentence... What I ment to write was: "Like the child I knew Jax could be, he stuck his tounge out in retaliation. Crossing my legs again, I tried to hide my smile." Again, so sorry -.- And I tried rewritting chapters 1-4 in first person POV, but I got very bored, very quickly. So the story will be staying in third person :] I'm lazy, so I may or may not rewrite chapter five. Anyway, I hope you like chapter 6 better.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter six<strong>

Brielle sat on a plastic crate with Jax and Opie at the fundraiser Gemma had started years ago. The three of them watched Kyle Hobart, all of them had cigarettes hanging from their lips. If Brielle had her way, Kyle would not be at the fundraiser, but it hadn't been her call. Opie had chosen to let him come back for the day to see him without his wife or children. He had wanted to see a man with nothing when, although Ope had gone to prison because of him, he had more than Kyle.

"You know, this club means everything to me. Only thing I ever wanted from the time I went here," He motioned towards the middle school. "But everything else, Donna, the kids...work, they're all heading in the opposite direction. Just can't hook shit up. Feel like I'm losing on every front."

Jax scoffed. "I got no answers. My family plan is right out of the Sid and Nancy handbook. I'm so used to shit moving in the opposite direction, I don't know what I'd do if something actually hooked up."

The two looked at Brielle, as if she had something insightful to say.

"Don't look at me," She exhaled smoke with a scoff. "My parents didn't have the best relationship, my sister died thanks to my mother, and I'm dating Tig, the club's resident weirdo. You think my world's perfect?"

"Yeah, you're probably right with that." Jax chuckled, flicking ash off of his cigarette.

"You think he's happy?" Opie asked as an egg splattered all over Kyle Hobart's black hoodie. Brielle shrugged, smooshing her cigarette into the ground.

"I dunno." Jax blew out some smoke.

Kyle's young daughter ran to him for a hug, which he accepted at first and then put her down. Claiming he didn't want to get egg on her, his very young girlfriend came behind him and helped strip him of his jacket. There was some kind of difficulty when it came to taking off his jacket; the back of his shirt rose up, showing the California part of his SAMCRO back tattoo. Brielle's mouth gaped open and the boys narrowed their eyes.

"Still has that tat." Opie spat, now glaring at the excommunicated biker.

"Yeah," Jax hissed, throwing his cigarette filter to the ground. The VP jumped up to confront Kyle, but Opie grabbed his arm.

"This is me."

Brielle and Jax watched Opie follow Kyle into the gym. Anger filled both of them; Kyle was supposed to have gotten rid of that tattoo when he was kicked out of the Sons. It was either his life or getting rid of the tattoo, and he had obviously neglected the rule Clay had given him.

"I can't belive he still has that goddamn tattoo." Brielle whispered, walking along side Jax.

"There's going to be Hell to pay. Too bad the poor bastard doesn't know about it." Jax stuck his hands in his pockets.

"What're we going to do about it, Jax? He's got kids-"

"He should have thought about that before ignoring the rules Clay gave him," The vice president stopped in his tracks and looked her in the eye. "By him not doing what he was told, Kyle told us that he doesn't give a shit about his family."

"Listen, Jax, there are other ways of getting rid of that tat. You know what I mean: fire or knife. It's been done before-"

"Because there was no such thing as laser removal back then!"

"Will you let me finish? Just think about his kids and ex wife, alright? You know all three of them will be shattered if he dies because of some ink."

Jax thought about it for a bit, glancing at the gym. "If you can get Tig to agree to it, Clay will follow suit." Brielle nodded and put her hands on her hips. "Listen, I need to talk to Donna real quick. See you later?"

"Yeah, go ahead. I'm gonna find Tig."

Brielle turned to go to the chili booth that Gemma was at. Police Chief Unser stood at the booth, devouring chili and talking to Gemma. Just as Unser was leaving, Brielle stood at the table next to Unser.

"Brielle. Heard you were back in town. Everything going good?" He asked, probably just to be polite.

"Yeah," I nodded, putting my sunglasses over my eyes. "And you? I heard you were thinking of stepping down?"

Unser rolled his eyes. "Clay convinced me otherwise. Won't be retiring for another six months. Excuse me, I need to be getting back to the PD's booth now."

Gemma and Brielle watched him stalk back to the booth. Brielle walked behind the table to stand next to Jax's mother. There was a man at the grill who was flipping burgers and hot dogs. He seemed to be staring right back at Brielle and Gemma. Behind her sunglasses, Brielle narrowed her eyes.

"Gemma, who's the guy behind the grill? The one staring at us; or at least I think he is." Brielle asked, putting a corn chip in her mouth and taking off her sunglasses to get a better look.

"No, you're right, he is staring at us. Unser says he's the ATF agent looking into the club." Gemma put her hands on her hips.

"Great," Brielle sighed sarcastically. "Where's Bobby and Tig?"

"They're getting Jax and Opie," Gemma pointed to the gym with her thumb and then returned her hand to her hip. "Don't tell me Clay called you in too."

Brielle pursed her lips and looked away. She felt like a child in the midst of her parents argument. "Clay called?"

Gemma glowered at the younger woman through her sunglasses.

"Erm, I was actually looking for Tig and Bobby for something else...thanks, Gem."

Without another moment's hesitation, Brielle scrambled to the gym. There she saw Tig, Bobby, Jax, and Opie talking amongst themselves. Kyle Hobart stood next to Opie, a fresh, bleeding cut on his eyebrow. Brielle wondered if Jax and Opie ganged up on him in the gym, but it was most likely just Opie. The conversation halted when Brielle showed up. A thin smile grew on Kyle Hobart's face, and a frown grew on everyone else's.

"Brielle," Kyle opened his arms for an embrace. They shut when he realised that he wasn't going to get the hug he wanted. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, it has," She nodded. _Maybe not long enough,_ she thought.

"Clay called; time for us to go," Jax spoke up. "You're going to the clubhouse with Opie and Kyle."

Brielle simply nodded and retrieved her car keys from her back pocket. Before he left, Tig placed a gentle kiss on her lips as he, Bobby and Jax left. The other three left in silence. Kyle hopped into Opie's truck and Brielle followed them to the SAMCRO clubhouse. Brielle wondered how Jax was going to get Tig and Bobby to agree to what they talked about. She knew Tig was going to want the highest punishment without another thought. Brielle hadn't gotten to Tig in time to talk to him about it. With a sigh, Brielle shifted into fourth gear. Why couldn't people just do as they were told?

* * *

><p>The German shepard that Zane owned, which was still at the house Tig and Brielle shared, trotted into the the master bedroom. Brielle sat on her side of the bed, rubbing lotion onto her skin while Tig sat on his, rubbing his face with his palms. After making sure she got all the lotion, Brielle laid out on her bed and stretched. It felt nice when her joints popped.<p>

It had been along day what not with the fundraiser and Kyle Hobart. With her foot Brielle scratched the back of Tig's head. She let out a small giggle when he peeked over his shoulder, a little look of shock that she was running his curls through her toes. With another stretch and a small, puppy dog squeak, Brielle turned away from him and pulled the covers over herself. Zane's dog jumped onto the bed and laid in the space between Brielle and Tig.

From the bedside table drawer, Tig retrieved a velvety maroon snapbox. Trying not to rouse Brielle, he opened the box quietly and slowly; it had been years since he saw that ring. It was a round cut ruby with a halo of diamonds. The gem sat on two arches instead of one, and both arches were encrusted with tiny diamonds. Tig had spared no expense when he bought the ring; it was worth seventeen grand but had never been placed on anyone's finger. He gave way to a sigh, closed the ring box shut with a small snap and closed the drawer after returning the ring.

Tig wanted to throw that damn dog out of the window. It just HAD to lay between him and his beloved; not to mention, she hogged all the blankets. He was about to open his mouth to banish the mongrel from his throne of slumber when the dog got up on her own and hopped off the bed. The soft press of Brielle's cheek on his torso, and the tangling of her legs with his, put a smile on his face. At least there was something to smile about today.

* * *

><p><strong>The link for the engagement ring will be on my profile. Sorry this took so long to post :c Disclaimer: I lay no claim to any of FXSoA materials, charaters, etc. Brielle and her family is mine.**


	7. Blood In, Blood Out

**I've been busily writing all weekend c: Not only is there a lot more in this chapter than last time, but I still have at least two chapters written up. They're just needing some more material and editing :] This is a filler chapter until I get to the good stuff c: Are you guys excited for the new season on Tuesday? I AM! :D**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter seven<strong>

"Goddamn it! Juice, you idiot!"

It had been a quiet morning at the shop. Several mechanics worked hard in the shop, one bay performing oil changes and tire services, another bay working on a motorcylce for the club, and the third bay worked on a car that had been giving everyone a tough time. Kip had been the original mechanic who had been assigned to the 1995 Nissan 300ZX but once he looked at the engine, he begged Clay to give the car to someone else. Feeling generous, the president gave the project to Opie.

Opie had some success with the Japanese car. It was easier for him to tear apart the engine compartment and attempt to get at what the problem was. But even he, someone who had worked on vehicles practically his whole life couldn't find the problem. Clay attempted to give the job to Jax, who simply laughed and shook his head at his stepfather. The only person who would even consider taking the job was Brielle. But Clay also put Juice on the job too; the engine space was so compact it was totally necessary to have two people work on it. Not to mention, the president felt that the young member had some learning to do from a mechanic with a college degree.

Juice had been lifting the top half of the engine, trying to allow Brielle to shine a flashlight in. Foolishly, she had put her hand on the bottom half as she peered in. The biker's grasp slipped and a few of Brielle's fingers were smashed by the top half of the engine block. After Brielle's outburst, Juice had immediately released her fingers and the whole shop fell silent. Clay Morrow's head poked out from the office door, along with Tig's. They both saw her doubled over, applying pressure to her injured fingers.

"Alright everyone," Clay called as he left the office, his Sergeant at Arms following on his heels. "Back to work. C'mon, that car's been waiting for an oil change for two hours! How long does it take?"

It seemed to take forever for Clay and Tig to reach where Brielle gripped her hand and whimpered.

"Oh my God, oh shit, Christ," Juice exclaimed, gripping the sides of his head. "Jesus, Brielle, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

"No!" She wailed, trying to keep tears from spilling down her face. Not only was she angry that she was hurt, but embarrassed for being such a girl infront of a shop full of men. With extreme tenderness, something that was a wee bit out of place for such a burly biker, Clay took her left hand into his and inspected it carefully. Three of her fingers on her left hand, the middle, ring, and pinky had been caught in the engine block. Blood seeped from under all of the injured fingernails and all of them were swollen.

"Juice, keep working on that piece of shit. C'mon, let's go to the office." Clay ordered, putting an arm around her shoulders and walked her back where he and Tig came from. Once she sat down, Tig retrieved a clean, unused rag and gave it to her to suppress the bleeding. "What happened?"

"I was trying to look into the engine, Juice refused to actually remove the whole top half and insisted to hold it up for me to look in with a flashlight," Her voice wavered as adrenaline surged through her body, making her shake. "His grip loosened and fell on my fingers. I should have made him move the top half. Do you think I could go to the hospital?"

"Tig'll take you," Clay nodded, propping his feet up on the desk after he took a seat. "But first, I want to talk to you about something."

A pit formed in Brielle's stomache. Talk about what? She hadn't misbehaved or ignored a direct order; had she? Her heart began to pound furiously as if it was going to jump out of her chest and her mind raced as she tried to figure out what Clay needed to talk about. "Uh, sure...what is it?"

"How would you like to become shop manager?"

The four chambered muscle in Brielle's chest slowed down and her brain calmed. "Manager? I thought that was Gemma's thing."

"She's been busy lately," Tig spoke up. "You know, what not with getting Jax's house ready for Abel."

"And she's okay with this?"

"You're job's different than hers," Clay spoke again. "She handles money and bills for the shop. What you'll be doing is schedules and discipline, stuff neither Gemma or I have time for."

A sudden surge of pain went through her fingers and into the rest of her body. Brielle wasn't sure how much longer she could sit around without some kind of pain killer. Her fingers had been smashed pretty well. She found it odd that despite how many times she had taken apart a motor that now she had sustained an injury. Although it had been a total accident, she was furious with Juice.

"Yeah, yeah. Can I please just go to the hospital, Clay?"

Brielle stood at the front desk at the ER, waiting impatiently for a nurse to notice her. Behind her, Tig sat in one of the waiting chairs, quietly watching Brielle struggle to get someone to talk to her. She covered her face with both of her hands, remembering too late that she was injured. Before she screamed in pain, she felt a strong arm pull her back to the chairs.

Tig gently pulled her into his lap and took her injured hand into his.

"How long have you been working on cars?" Tig uttered, gently running his fingers over the cracked nails.

"Too long to be sustaining an injury like this," She pouted, gazing at the chipped black nail polish. The biker chucked and held her closer. "What does it take for someone to get some attention here?"

There were four other people in the waiting room. One was an elderly woman, breathing heavily and holding her stomach. A woman held her young son close to her; there was an exceedingly deep cut in the boys leg. A bandage had been placed over the cut, slowing the bleeding for now. There was a man sitting a couple chairs away from Tig and Brielle, a towel wrapped tightly around his arm; it appeared that it was broken.

One by one, each person was taken away from the waiting room until only Tig and Brielle remained. As the time passed, both had moved around the room. Currently, Brielle was pacing the room while Tig fell asleep in one of the chairs.

"Erm, Brielle Clark?" A doctor called, holding a clipboard close to his face. Brielle slapped the snoozing biker's knee to catch his attention. The doctor was taller than she was, but much older. He sort of reminded her of her father.

"That's me," She tried to put on a pleasant smile, but the emotionless black hole called the waiting room had drained her of all happiness.

"Sorry for the wait," He smiled warmly, leading his patient and Tig to the observation room. "We've been short staffed for a while now, the only person who's been hired recently was Dr. Knowles. But she's in pediatrics and can't help much in the ER unless it has anything to do with a kiddo. So, what happened here?"

An hour or two later, an x ray had been taken of Brielle's hand and the doctor had gingerly wrapped the fingers. Brielle couldn't help but think that they looked like sausages, all wrapped in gauze. She, and the doctor, were quite surprised that Tig had stayed for as long as he did. It had got Brielle thinking; _could he be ready for a committed relationship?_

Not that they weren't already somewhat officially together. It was common knowledge that Brielle was Tig's, but not quite his old lady. At least not yet. Sure they lived together, but it was also known that Tig wasn't as loyal to Brielle as she was to him. Brielle knew about his indiscrepancies and had secretly hoped he would stop. But it was practically a lost cause. She could smell the scent of loose women and see the smear of lipstick on his chest, neck and face that he obviously tried to remove when he came home from whatever party Brielle didn't go to.

The high pitched ringtone that belonged to the biker filled the silent observation room that only Brielle and Tig occupied for the moment. He flicked the phone open and answered the call. Brielle, who laid on the cushioned table and dozing off, could hear Jax's voice over the phone. She could tell that Jax needed all his men at the clubhouse, but she couldn't tell why. With a small sigh, he snapped the phone shut and then replaced it in his cut pocket.

"Brie," He spoke softly, not wanting to wake her up if she was asleep. Her eyelids peeped open, her brilliant hazel eyes gazing into his icy blues.

"I heard," She talked softly as well. "Go on, I'll call Zane for a ride. Tell Jax that I'll be back shortly. I think."

* * *

><p>A lawyer from Los Angeles sat in an office in the Charming Police Department, waiting for an audience with one of the ATF agents that was looking into the Sons of Anarchy club. His knee jiggled in slight impatience. This couldn't wait, he had to get something done about these clowns who thought no one could touch them. It was pertinent that she be safe.<p>

The door to the office swung open and clicked shut. A man with salt and pepper hair, mostly salt, walked in and sat at the desk. He was tall, probably the same height as the lawyer. What the ATF agent wore wasn't at all professional; a navy blue t shirt with a white and blue vertical stripped collared shirt which was unbuttoned and rolled up to his sleeves. The agent wore khaki pants and some comfy looking sneakers.

"So," The agent spoke, turning from the left to the right in the plushy office chair. "Jeremy Schultz, is it?"

"Yes, sir," The lawyer spoke, adjusting how he sat. Jeremy felt a wee bit over dressed compared to the agent. "I have something to discuss with you. It's about the Sons of Anarchy."

Agent Kohn took his turn straightening in his chair. "Really now? We're going to perform a search in about twenty minutes, is there something else you can tell us?"

"Brielle Clark," Jeremy smirked, an evil gleam in his brown eyes. "Corner her, and she'll tell you anything."

Kohn picked up some papers, flipped through a couple, found whatever he was looking for, and dropped the papers.

"She's a mechanic at Teller-Morrow. What information is she going to be able to give us?" Kohn asked, folding his fingers.

"Oh, trust me," Jeremy sighed. "She's way more than a mechanic. Her father was in it, her brother was in it and when she was younger, she had a significant role in the club. She's also currently dating Alexander 'Tig' Trager."

"Really, now?" Agent Kohn purred, leaning back in the chair and tapping his chin. Although he wasn't sure if he could use the information the lawyer was giving him, he was definitely going to say something to Stahl. Thanking Jeremy Schutlz, Kohn stood and left, June Stahl in his sights.

* * *

><p>Brielle stood at the check out desk in the hospital. She had been told that nothing was broken and the doctor had given her a prescription for a weeks worth of Percocet. He told her no working on cars until her nails regrew. Which ment the shop manager position Clay had given her worked out perfectly.<p>

"Brielle Clark?" A woman's voice called, it sounded familiar to the biker chick.

She turned to see an older version of the Tara Knowles who left when she was nineteen. Tara had her long dark brown hair twisted in a clip, her sea foam green scrubs rubbing her success in Brielle's face. Brielle always knew that Tara would become some snooty doctor, saving lives, doing the right thing. She was actually surprised to see Jax's ex high school sweetheart back in town, but no so much so. Gemma had warned her about Tara; Brielle couldn't find a reason that wasn't eleven years old for her to still be angry.

"Well, well, isn't it miss Tara Knowles. It only took you, what, 11 years to come back to Charming?" Brielle quipped, a small smile on her face.

"Things weren't going so well in Chicago," She shrugged. "I see you never left."

"Actually, I just got back from a four year stint in LA," Brielle corrected, signing a paper or two before turning back to her friend's ex. "Ex boyfriend hit me so I packed up and moved back."

Tara made a face of surprise. "Wow, good for you. What're you at the hospital for?"

"Juice dropped the top half of an engine block on my fingers," She held up her left hand to show off her battle wounds. "Doc says nothing's broken, but still gave me some Percocet."

"Sounds like it hurt," Tara laughed abit. "Have you talked to Gemma lately?"

"Yep, she still has a hard on for you and what happened when you left."

The good doctor frowned and sighed. "When will she ever let go?"

"Don't be mad at Gem," Brielle put a good hand on Tara's shoulder. "She's just a mama bear protecting her remaining cub and his baby. What I recommend, kill her with kindness and never back down. She'll eventually realise you're with Jax for love and she'll love you too. I have to get back to work but, I took a peek at Abel; good job on the sugery. I'll be seeing you around."

Tara furrowed her brow. She didn't remember saying anything about her and Jax. However, since she had known Brielle, she always had a way of knowing things without anyone having to say anything. She knew Brielle was a favorite of Gemma's and also wasn't Tara's biggest fan, but they had always been civil to each other. Tara had kind of wanted to ask the other woman if she was with Tig still, be she hadn't gotten to it. By the looks of things, with Brielle working at TM, Tara assumed so. With a small sigh, Tara returned to what she was doing in the first place.

Zane Clark's bike came to a halt next to the rest of the club's bikes. Careful of her fingers, Brielle got off the back and took off the spare helmet. As her brother shut off his bike, she returned the helmet to the saddlebag it belonged to. Thanking her brother, Brielle began to walk back to the shop. Zane went the opposite way of his sister; towards the clubhouse. She found Tig working on the Nissan 300ZX that had hurt her; this time the top half of the motor was sitting on a bench near the car.

Breathing out of her nose, Brielle laid her head against the leather cut that covered Tig's back and wrapped her arms around his torso. A soft chuckle came from the biker and he continued to tinker around. She straightened and found a swivel stool with wheels and sat next to the car.

"Doc said I shouldn't work on any machinery and try not to type for a week or so." She spoke louder than usual; an air compressor was running in the background.

"A week, huh?" Tig repeated, still looking around the motor. "That's like a month to a mechanic."

"Well, lucky me I have that desk job Clay gave me this morning," She crooned. "Speaking of, where is the old man?"

"Unser picked him up for questioning. Some cop got shot earlier today or something. Not really sure," Tig straightened and narrowed his eyes. "Is a brand new yellow Corvette with the plate numbers of 7380HDM familiar to you?"

"If so, why?" Brielle narrowed her eyes back at her biker just as the air compressor shut off.

"Half Sack says some of the girls and customers have been stopped by a guy in a yellow 'Vette, asking about you."

Brielle's heart fell from her chest to her butt. She knew the car and it's plates alright. "Yeah, I know the car."

"Who's it belong to, Brie?" Tig asked again, leaving the car and sitting on a stool close to hers.

"Jeremy Schutlz,"

"That douche who was at our door?" The look on Tig's face made Brielle feel like she was a child being scolded by her father or older brother for sneaking into his room when uninvited. She rolled her neck, popping a few vertebrae.

"Yeah, guess he didn't leave." She ran her good hand through her hair, shaking the loose pieces onto the shop floor.

The two sat in silence for the next few minutes. Brielle continued to pick at her hair, this time at he split ends. Tig began to scrape motor filth from under his fingernails. A big yawn exited Brielle as she stretched her arms in the air. The biker couldn't stop a smile from coming to his face; he couldn't help but think that everything she did was perfect.

"How's your hand?"

"Good," Brielle got out before a monsterous sneeze. "Took some of the meds the doctor gave me before I left the hospital. Am I drooling?"

Tig laughed heartily, something he hadn't done in a very long time.

"What?" She frowned. "Am I?"

He laughed again, pulling her swivel chair closer to his. After placing a soft kiss on her temple, he returned to the car. "No, you're not."

"Where's Brielle?" A loud, and very angry sounding, female voice called. Both Tig and the person in question craned their necks to see who was demanding Brielle. "Maybe she'll tell me where the Hell my husband is!"

Tig straightened and took a step towards Donna Winston but was stopped. Brielle gave him a gentle smile and kissed him lightly on the cheek. The mechanic walked over to her oldest friends wife, not sure what was going on.

"Brielle, thank God! Finally, someone who's not insane. Where's Opie?" Donna asked, gripping the other woman in an oddly tight hug.

"He's off taking care of something with his dad and Jax. Is everything okay?"

The pleased expression Donna had turned sour. "This is the second shift he's missed at the mill. If he misses another one, he's going to get canned. And I can't let him come back to the club; paying bills with money that wasn't earned legally...it just doesn't seem right to me."

"Donna, the club's all Ope knows. Since he was was born, he ate, slept, dreamed, breathed, talked the club," Brielle led the Missus Winston out of the garage. "I understand how you feel about the money. But you have to trust Opie. He's trying to do what's best for you and the kids."

"Listen, Gemma and Jax gave me the same talk. 'The club is family,' and 'it's all he knows.' But it's not true, the club isn't every-"

"Isn't it, Donna? Take a second thought about that. But let me tell you something, the men of mayhem are not easily swayed. They're a stubborn bunch. If you push one way, Ope's naturally going to go the other way. It happened to my parents, and to his. Don't continue the cycle."

Donna ran a hand through her oaky brown hair and put the other on her hip. "Can I ask you something, Brielle?" Brielle nodded, waiting for the other woman to say something. "We've known each other long enough, I feel I can ask this. How can you do it? How can you pay bills in cash even though the money wasn't earned through the sweat of a brow or hours sitting in an office? I mean, I can't even go to the grocery store to buy food without feeling guilty about it."

"Honestly, I don't know," She frowned, knowing it wasn't much of a help to Donna. "I guess I've been doing it that way for so long I just don't notice it anymore. That's probably something you and Ope need to talk about - without being defensive and demanding he leave the club. He may love you and the kids to pieces, but SAMCRO is part of him. You can't expect him to leave a piece of himself behind."

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own any SoA materials, characters, scripts or anything. Kurt Sutter is a genius, lol. While you're waiting for chapter 8, feel free to review. Oh, and once the new season comes out, I won't be skipping to season four, I'll slowly progress to it. Thanks for reading!<strong>


	8. Capybara

**What did you guys think of the SoA season 4 premier? Pretty awesome huh? :D Well, here ya go c:**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter eight<strong>

ATF Agent June Stahl had an idea. And it was a brilliant one. She needed information and was having a hard time finding it. Everytime she had a SAMCRO member in her grasp or the Charming Police department had one in for questioning about a minor incident, she couldn't get anything from them. And unfortunately for her, the Mayans and Niners were outside of Charming so she couldn't bring any of them in for a question or two. But still, she knew how she could get the information she needed.

She knew that when faced with the option of "tell me something or go to jail," most people would cave to stay out of prison. Stahl planned to grill the ladies of the Sons of Anarchy. First on her list was Luann Delaney, wife of the imprisoned Otto Delaney. There was a rumor that Delaney had pills and blow in her possession at the studio. Next was Donna Winston, the wife of Opie. After her was Tara Knowles, Rita "Cherry", and Gemma Teller. Each had something to lose; family, careers, the men they loved, freedom.

The federal agent would have put Wendy Teller on the list, but she and Jax had been divorced for a month and she hadn't been seen or heard of in a while. Last any one had heard, she was lodged at a halfway house out of town. Stahl had been thinking about doing what Kohn had suggested; grilling Brielle Clark as well as the other women. But since Kohn had gone missing, she wondered if his information from the lawyer was legit. She wasn't sure how much longer she could take under the table information from Jeremy Schultz. Even if he was a lawyer.

It had been confirmed that years ago Brielle Clark and Alexander Trager had been an official couple. But she had recently moved back to Charming from Los Angeles and although they were living together, no one could confirm if the two were exclusive. Not even the women who hung around the bikers that Schultz had harassed could confirm it.

"Saddle everyone up," Stahl ordered her second in command. "After Gemma, we're going for Brielle Clark. Find out where she is before we leave."

* * *

><p>This morning was definitely not a good one. Brielle's stomach constantly churned, thanks to the pain killers. She sat at the bar, nibbling on crackers and sipping a room temperature Sprite. Although she wasn't feeling well, Brielle had gotten dressed for a normal day off; a fancy black tank top and denim shorts. She was considering turning on the tv for some background noise when there was an exceedingly loud knock at the door.<p>

Groaning loudly, hoping whoever was at the door heard and would go away, she went to the door. She walked slowly and shuffled her feet, earning another annoying knock. When she swung the door open, there was an official looking woman, her cohort, and three police officers standing infront of her. All five of them wore kevlar vests, as if she was going to pull a weapon on five cops. The woman had golden brown hair, and although there was a smile on her face, Brielle couldn't help but feel there was malcontent behind her cheery exterior.

"Can I help you?"

"Ah, yes, ATF Agent June Stahl," The woman held out her hand for Brielle to shake. Tig had told Brielle to keep an eye out for this one, that she was sneaky and easily twisted people's words. When Brielle glared at the hand icily, Stahl took her hand back and put it on her hip. "My team and I have a warrent to search the premises."

Stahl held up a sky blue envelope which Brielle quickly snatched up. Brielle opened it and skimmed the paper, looking for the reasons they were looking through her house. It seemed like a legit warrent, but she couldn't find the reasons why her privacy was being invaded.

"On what grounds? Because I don't see anything on this 'warrent.'" Brielle growled.

Agent Stahl's goon pushed past the homeowner, in all of his kevlar glory. "Probable cause," Stahl winked. Brielle narrowed her eyes, unconcerned about the other agent looking at the knick-knacks she and Tig owned. She looked back down at the warrent.

"Judge...are you shitting me? No judge signed off on this!" Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. "You're search is beyond illegal! Get out of my house or I will find out who your superior is and have your ass canned."

The three police officers that were standing idly behind Stahl moved past her and Brielle, rudely entering the home. Even after Brielle had asked them to leave. Normally, she got along with the police and even welcomed their help. But right now, she was close to breaking out in a NWA song.

"We're not taking anything, or rather, looking for anything specific. If you'll notice my men aren't touching anything," Stahl used her hand to motion for Brielle to look behind her. "Besides, I just want to ask you something."

"About what?" Brielle snapped.

"Tell me if anything illegal is going on with the Sons of Anarchy. Or maybe they're some illegal parts floating around in Teller-Morrow?"

Brielle folded her arms, taking a step closer to Stahl.

"SAMCRO has been part of my life since before I was born. The Sons are a motorcycle enthusiast club. The only thing illegal there is how drunk they can get. And Teller-Morrow is an upstanding auto repair shop. Maybe you should bring that rental car of yours in for a check up; I can hear that throttle body problem from here. I promise my boys won't cut your brakes."

"That makes me feel a bit more assured," Stahl continued using her fake smile. "Tell me something else; what's your relationship with Alexander Trager? I mean, you two live together, but from the information I've gathered, you're not really together."

Brielle felt her stomach drop and the sting of tears come to her eyes. Not because she brought up Tig, but because she didn't know how to answer the question.

"You keep going about like this, someone's going to get hurt. Now leave my property before I call a lawyer and force a civil suit so far down your throat your grandchildren will be paying that settlement."

Stahl smiled; this time it was real and the malcontent behind it was painfully obvious.

"Alright, we're done here boys. To the next house."

Something in Brielle's mind clicked. If she couldn't get something out of a Son, she went to Gemma. Stahl was doing the same thing, but using brute force to get her information. Brielle was furious as she watched the four men exit her home. Once they piled into their cars and drove off, she slammed the door, rattling the frame and two or three things that hung on the wall. She stormed to the master bedroom and slipped on a pair of heels.

After deciding she looked appropriate for storming into the clubhouse, she snatched her car keys from the coffee table. Bailey laid on the couch, watching her with wide brown eyes. Before she left, Brielle gave the pooch a pat on the head. Jumping into the convertible Corvette, Brielle pulled out of the driveway and sped to Teller-Morrow. She had to get there before chapel let out. Traffic, thankfully, was scant.

* * *

><p>The mother chapter of Sons of Anarchy sat at their Reaper carved table. From the president to prospect, nine members sat at the table. Happy was the only one at the table who did not belong to the Redwood charter. Several other members from the Washington and Oregon chapters stood at the end of the room, listening as Clay spoke. Clay had just proposed peace with the Mayans and it hadn't gone over as well as he had hoped. They were still holding onto a grudge of something that happened years ago. The president needed them to let go in order to make some cash.<p>

Everyone's attention was pulled away from Clay due to the commotion outside the doors of the chapel. Someone's old lady was out there, fighting her way to the chapel. Clay could tell, not just by voice, but by the way Tig was sinking in his chair, Brielle was the one making all the noise.

He motioned to Opie, who went to the doors and opened one. Brielle strode in, a prospect from the Tacoma charter looking at Happy sorrowfully. Happy seemed to understand that the prospect had tried to stop her but was obviously no success. Once Brielle had entered, Opie shut the door. The bikers watched her as she went to Clay, a mysterious blue piece of paper in her hands.

"Everything alright, Brie?" Clay asked, peering up at her from his comfotable chair.

"That ATF bitch Tig told me about was just at my house. She's been harassing the old ladies." Brielle said, her voice heavy with anger.

"Yeah, we know." Happy called from the end of the table. Brielle ignored the nomadic Washitonian and dropped the sky blue paper infront of Clay.

"That is the bullshit warrent she used to enter my house," Brielle pointed at the paper with disgust. As if it was a carrier for the plague. Every biker in the room either straightened or shifted their weight.

"A warrent?" Tig repeated, looking up at Brielle who nodded and put a hand on the back of his chair. "Clay, there's a lot of weapons in that house-"

"She didn't take anything, but her goons sure took a nice look around the living room," Brielle explained, putting her hand on his shoulder.

Several others spoke amongst each other but all watched as Clay opened the warrent papers and read over it. They all waited, eager to know what was on the legal paper.

"It's blank," Clay grumbled. "No judge's signature, no suspected reasons to enter the house. Just Tig and Brielle's address. This has to happen today." Clay spoke to Happy specifically at the last moment.

Happy nodded. "I can do it."

* * *

><p>It had been three weeks since Brielle's hand had been mashed in the engine block. It had taken longer than she expected, but the nails had healed just fine. The Percocet pills had worked their magic for the week they had been prescribed for. She hadn't needed anymore than the weeks worth. Now she was back to typing, driving, and working like a normal person.<p>

Juice catered to her every need in the shop when he could. Instead of doing things halfway, he did them properly. Of course it helped that they were becoming rather good friends.

"-so the lawyer says, what's your next question?" Juice finished the joke he had been telling Brielle while she tightened a couple bolts. Laughing a bit, she slammed the hood shut. "Done already?"

"Yep," She used a clean rag to wipe the grease and grime off her hands. "Easy fix."

Juice nodded his head, playing with the antennae. He had something on his mind that had been said at chapel. And he needed to tell Brielle; she deserved to know.

"Brie, I need to tell you something," He spoke softly, as to not let the other mechanics overhear. Taking a quick look over her shoulder to make sure no one was trying to listen, Brielle edged toward Juice. "It's about something Tig said at chapel."

"What," Her heart lept into her throat and a warm feeling tingled from her head to her toes. "What did he say?"

"Remember Bobby being picked up for Brenan Hefner's murder?" Brielle nodded, waiting for Juice to continue. "We found out the Winston's are at a witness protection facility in Stockton. Tig thinks Opie's a rat. And that he should die for it." Juice admitted. He was quite surprised at her expression. It was blank, as if she agreed that Opie should die.

"Rats deserve to die, but I doubt that Ope ratted on Bobby."

"Exactly. But Tig thinks the exact opposite."

"What do you want me to do about it?" She asked, looking into his eyes. Juice felt like he was caught in a trance as he gazed into those glittering hazel eyes. No wonder Tig was so enamored with her; she had to be one of the prettiest women he had ever seen. He was tempted to kiss her, but was reminded by the sound of a torque wrench that here and now was totally inappropriate.

"Well, erm, perhaps you can talk to him? Maybe try to get him to change his mind?"

Brielle was silent about it, needing to think it over. She gave way to a small sigh and nodded a bit. "I'll see what I can do, but don't expect a miracle."

Juice and Brielle walked side by side from the garage to the clubhouse. The biker watched her from his peripherals, oh so tempted to take her hand in his or sling an arm over her shoulder. They entered the clubhouse, a sanctuary from the California heat, several members were at the bar and a few were playing billiards. Almost immediately, she skipped over to Tig who stood at the bar next to Bobby with a bottled beer in his hands, Juice watched as she played coy and stole sips of his beer when he wasn't paying attention. He continued watching the two of them; they were something out of a Disney movie. They seemed too happy.

Finally, when Juice thought that she would never say anything, Brielle led Tig into the chapel. The young biker's stomache performed several flips as he watched the doors shut. He wanted to hear their conversation, but knew he shouldn't try to. Once Tig shut the doors, Juice turned back to the bar stool. Looked like he was just going to have to wait.

Juice watched Half Sack run around desperately, trying to get liquor for the heckling members. It hadn't been too long ago that Juice had been taking those orders himself. Oh, how glad he was to have earned his patch. He was proud of himself, becoming one of the respected members of the Mother chapter of the Sons of Anarchy.

"You arrogant dick!"

The shouting of Brielle broke Juice's concentration down memory lane. A few of the bikers stopped to listen, but others just ignored it. Juice wondered if fights between the two were normal. Especially in public. A sarcastic laugh came from Tig.

"This is not the time to be laughing! Why is it everytime I bring shit up, you laugh and walk away?"

"You really want to do this here? At the clubhouse?" Tig hissed, like a snake waiting to strike. "They can hear us, you know."

"Good!" Brielle snapped. "Maybe they'll feel sorry for me once they realise what a sadistic, insane, masochistic, bipolar, and unfaithful asshole you are!" That certainly caught everyone's attention.

"After everything I've done for you-"

"You are so full of it," Brielle interrupted. "'All you've done for me.' Are you serious? I come home early when I could be out with friends, I cook, I clean, I work everyday and sometimes doubles when you're running around with Clay and the others. And when you're out late with whatever cheap pussy you picked up, I'm home. Alone. Does that seem fair to you?"

The whole clubhouse was quiet as Brielle, and every other eavesdropping club member, waited for Tig's answer. A clock ticked on the wall, whatever was on the tv played softly. Cigarette smoke rose in the air from the cancer sticks, or exited the mouths of bikers, and disappeared.

"No one said you couldn't do what I do."

The sound of a sharp, stinging slap was audible fomr behind the doors. A few bikers flinched in sympathetic pain; some knew first hand the wrath of a woman cheated on. Others laughed, Tig should have known better. He was in the dog house for life now. The chapel doors flew open and the auburn haired beauty stomped out, Tig on her heels, trying to slow her down.

"Don't call or text me," She ordered, spinning on her heel and pointed an accusing finger at Tig.

Tig watched as Brielle walked out, slamming the door behind her. Shit always seemed to go this way, and she was right. She would bring something up, usually about something that Tig said, did, or something he would never change his mind about. He would say something rude and she would fire back. It normally ended with Brielle crying, locking herself in the bathroom, going to her brother's, or just all together disappearing for a day or two.

Sergeant at Arms form SAMCRO looked around the room. He was pleased to see everyone minding their own damn business. Tig couldn't help but think how very Clay and Gemma like their fight was. Brielle had confronted him about his campaign against Opie. She hadn't been in the chapel during the conversation about Ope possibly being a rat. How their fight turned to his infedelities, he couldn't remember.

"What happened there?" Juice asked, glancing at the older man as Tig sat next to him.

"You really want to know?" Tig mumbled sighed, taking a long drink from a cold beer bottle.

"Only if you want to talk," Juice shrugged. He had learned his lesson the hard way about trying to get Tig to talk when he didn't want to.

A sigh left the biker and he ran a hand through his curly brown hair. "She confronted me. About Opie being a rat," Tig spoke quietly, keeping their conversation between them. "Brielle wasn't in chapel today, so how do you think she heard about what I think about Opie?"

Juice fell silent. He wasn't sure if he should tell his fellow biker that he infact informed someone who wasn't privvy to that information. Something in his head told Juice that Tig knew he had blabbed. The younger of the two shrugged. He figured playing innocent would keep him out of dangerous waters.

"You're the one who told her about Opie."

Juice felt the color drain from his face. "Tig, no. Why would I-"

"Don't play dumb with me. Are you really so naive to think that she's not completely honest with me? Do not ever tell my old lady to change my mind about something she is not involved in. Now that she knows too much, she's going to be part of whatever this is." Tig's icy blue eyes chilled Juice to the bone.

"I'm sorry, Tig," Juice replied just as softly as Tig spoke. "I thought maybe if someone close to Opie other than Jax talked to you, you might be able to change your mind."

"That's the problem with you," Tig growled. "You don't think."

* * *

><p><strong> Disclaimer: I do not own any kind of SoA materials, characters, scripts, stocks, or anything else. Just a nice laptop and a toasty Reaper Crew jacket c: Reviews until chapter nine? Thank you for reading!<strong>


	9. Sleep of Babies pt 1

**Goodness gracious this one is long! But I felt splitting it into more than two chapters would hinder it. Erm, I think it's a bit messy, but I still like it c: by the way, I have a poll on my profile and I would REALLY like to know your opinions. Not sure when I'm going to close it, but once I get my answer I'm going to close it and make another. I'll let you know when that goes down c: Enjoy.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter nine<strong>

Juice snoozed lightly on his couch. The light of the tv illuminated the living room in his apartment. He had gone home at the end of the day instead of partying or picking up a girl. It had been a very long day, as was everyday with the Sons, and the fight between Brielle and Tig and Tig confronting him hadn't helped much. Almost as soon as he turned on the tv he had fallen asleep. Despite how hard he tried to watch his favorite show, his eyes had shut quickly.

A light snort left Juice as someone knocked on the door. His foot twitched when the knocker pounded on the door louder. Still, the knocks became louder yet Juice continued to sleep soundly. It wasn't until his phone began to ring that Juice woke. Blindly, he picked up the phone and put it to his ear.

"Whaaa?" He moaned into the microphone, still half asleep.

"Juice, can you open your door? I've been knocking for like five minutes."

The sleepy biker shut the phone and sat up. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. Although had heard the voice on the phone he had been too tired to listen for who it was. And he failed to check the caller id. The clock on his phone said 9:16 pm. With a grumble, he pushed off he couch and went to the door.

Brielle Clark stood at the doorway, looking tied and as if she had been crying all day. Her auburn hair was pulled into a loose bun, sidebangs hung in her face. Juice felt awful. It was his fault that she and Tig had gotten in such a big fight. And yet, here she was hair a mess, eye bloodshot, purse barely hanging onto her shoulder. _I'm a horses ass,_ Juice thought.

"Do you mind if I come in?" She asked, exhaustion prevalent in her voice.

"Oh, sure," Juice stepped aside, opening the door wider, allowing her entry. "C'mon in. Are you feeling alright?"

Brielle shuffled to the couch Juice had been drooling on. Her heels thudded softly on the carpeted and a sigh left her. She ran a hand through her hair, struggling to keep another tear fall down her face. Since her fight with Tig, she had been crying. It hadn't been until Bobby gave her Juice's address over the phone twenty minutes ago that she had stopped.

"Do you mind if I sit?" She motioned towards the sofa.

"Not at all." He muttered, still a little sleepy. Brielle dropped her purse on the floor and sat on the suede couch. She kicked off her heels which thudded on the floor. She sat back against the sofa, sighing as she closed her eyes. Juice sat next to her, silently watching her rest for a moment.

"Thanks Juice, for letting me in at such a late hour. I'm still a bit upset about the fight," Brielle spoke softly. "Not only am I mad that he made it about him, but we just blew up infront of everyone. Most of them I've known since I was in diapers."

"Listen, Brie," Juice scooted closer to her, timidly putting a hand on her knee. He would have retracted it, but the tiny voice in his head told him to keep it there. Tig wasn't at the apartment and she needed a friend to talk to. "That whole fight was my fault. I shouldn't have said anything. You are Tig's old lady, after all. I doubt any of the other guys tell their ladies what goes on in chapel."

A look of curiousity was frozen on Brielle's face. "What makes you think I'm his old lady?"

"Tig said it himself. Right after you left. If you need to stay here, it's fine with me."

A faint smile crossed her face, but left quicker than it had arrived. Juice removed his hand from Brielle's knee but pulled her closer with his arm. She wrapped her arms around his torso, folding her legs under her. His spicy yet sweet scent drifted into her nostrils and she dared to take another sniff. Brielle could feel her heart rate speed up when she peered up at him and her cheeks would redden when he glanced down at her.

Immediately she would return to watching the television. With her ear pressed to his chest, she could hear his heart speed up. She looked up again, this time not looking away when he glanced back at her. A wide grin grew on her face as butterflies became restless in her stomach. With his forefinger and thumb, Juice angled her chin up, her lips in the perfect pout. Practically begging to be kissed.

Before he could it himself, Brielle pressed her lips against his. Initially, he was a bit surprised that she had kissed him. But never the one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Juice kissed back. He found that she was soon sitting in his lap, their kisses deepening. Carefully, Juice stood, and began the trek to the bedroom. Brielle wrapped her legs around his hips, a small grin grew on her face as she felt the familiar hardness. Wary of the lurking dangers in the darkness, with one hand Juice held her to him and used his other hand to navigate the short hallway.

When they reached the dark bedroom, Juice dropped Brielle on the bed and stood over her. She looked up at him, confused by being dropped on his king sized bed. Brielle was about to say something when he crawled onto the bed, holding himself over her and his lips cascaded onto hers again. With a fistful of her hair, Juice tugged lightly, testing his boundaries. A light moan left her lips, telling Juice he had picked the right stimulus. In response to Juice, she pressed her hips into Juice's; a moan escaped his lips as well, putting a small smile onto her face.

She felt the rough edge's of the rings Juice wore as he unbuckled the belt looped around her shorts. Feeling like she needed to help with the unclothing, Brielle reached down and unbuckled his belt. The belt buckle he wore was a bit heavy and it hit the floor with a rather loud thump. Sitting up, Brielle took off her shirt, revealing a mauve and tan bra; purple and black details on the cups matched the underware she wore under her shorts. Juice was tempted to say something among the lines of Tig being lucky, but stopped himself before he did. Since he had joined the Sons, he had been with a lot of biker trash. He was kind of surprised while still turned on; this is what women with class wore under their clothes. Juice pulled away from her lips and drank her body in.

All of their clothes had been scattered on the floor, save for Brielle's undergarments. Biting gently on her bottom lip, Brielle watched Juice as he looked up and down her body. As he admired her body, Brielle felt trouble brewing in the pit of her stomach. She stared at the ceiling as Juice kissed her neck and played with her breasts. All she could think of was Tig. What was he doing? Who was he doing? Or had he felt bad enough after the fight to not fool around? And if had claimed her as his old lady infront of Juice, this wasn't very old lady like of her.

"Juice," Brielle spoke, pushing away from him gently. His eyes shot up to hers, curiousity filling them. "I can't."

"Sure you can," He smiled. Once he realised that she wasn't smiling either or trying to play hard to get, his smile turned to a frown. "It's Tig, isn't it?"

Brielle nodded and Juice stood, pulling his clothes back on. With a lump in her throat, Brielle gathered her own clothes and went to the other side of the bed to get dressed. She went to the living room, followed by Juice, and gathered her heels and purse. Once she fished her keys out of her purse, she turned to face Juice. He seemed to be upset, but also that he understood.

"I'm sorry," She whispered, one hand on the doorknob. "But if Tig's claiming me as his old lady, this can't happen."

"Yeah, I know," Juice nodded. "But you don't have to leave. I'll sleep on the couch."

"No," Brielle shook her head. "It's best that I go somewhere else. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

The door shut with a soft click. Juice flopped onto couch, a sigh leaving him. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Had he and Brielle, Tig's old lady, had they really almost had sex? Juice couldn't believe how stupid he was. He just wanted to sleep and forget this ever happened. Unfortunately, he was not longer tired. His tiredness was replaced with the need to get drunk. It was only 9:31, he was certain the others were still partying. Picking his cut up from the La-Z-Boy he had thrown it on when he got home, he left his apartment, hopped on his bike and zoomed off to the club house.

* * *

><p>Gemma Teller-Morrow was the only one who was awake in her house. Across the room, her bird slept peacefully, it's head under a wing. She didn't know how the bird slept. Clay's snoring bothered her. Especially when she couldn't get to sleep. At least Clay faced away from her; Gemma was thankful to be able to move around. Usually the sheer weight of Clay would pin her down in one place.<p>

On the nightstand next to her side of the bed, Gemma's cell phone began to ring. In a flash of trying to not wake Clay and not missing the call, Gemma threw the phone open and dashed out of the room. She hadn't even had enough time to check the caller id. Closing the door behind her, she waited until she was far enough away from Clay to speak.

"Hello?" She whispered, even though she was in the kitchen.

"Mama bear?" The sad, tear stained voice of Brielle Clark broke her heart. If the voice hadn't given away who it was, it would have been the name she used. No one except Brielle called Gemma Mama bear and Clay Papa bear.

"Brielle? Honey, is everything alright?" Gemma asked, finding an appropriate glass and filling it with milk.

"Not quite. I'm driving right now, but long story short, I can't go home. Do you mind if I stay the night at your house?"

"Of course not, hun."

Brielle said thanks and Gemma replied with a soft 'welcome.' Closing her cell phone, Gemma sat at her usual spot at the table and drained her milk before lighting up a cigarette. Clay had told her about the blow out between Tig and Brielle that afternoon. She wondered what had brought it up. Usually she didn't ask unless someone got hurt, but Gemma was curious, after all. Perhaps she'd say something when Brielle showed up. However, it was late and Gemma doubted Brielle wanted to talk much about it.

* * *

><p>Bright, warm, and annoying sun leaked through the blinds and into Tig's eyes. He lolled his head to the left, trying to get the ultraviolet rays out of his face. Hadn't he and Brielle talked about putting up curtains? She laid next to him, breathing softly. Tig chuckled; so much for not coming home.<p>

"Good morning," She purred. Tig's eyes snapped open. The woman next to him was definitely not Brielle. Not even in the slightest. Well, perhaps with the hazel eyes, but that was about the only thing. His mind scrambled for his course of action. He took the woman's head into his ringed hands, kissing her deeply.

"Get out," He ordered, lightly pushing the nameless broad away. "Go on, beat it." Instead of looking for what to do next, he scrambled for her name. Surely she had said it at one point or another.

"Call me?" She asked, wiggling into her skinny jeans. Her pathetic excuse for breasts jiggled as she tugged her pants on. And her jeans were obviously too tight. Tig laughed, not because she was the President of the Itty Bitty Titty Commitee, but because she had asked for him to call.

"Are you crazy? Get out before my old lady comes home."

The woman froze as she was latching her bra. "You have an old lady?" She repeated.

"Will you get out already?"

When Tig thought she'd never leave and Brielle would find her and leave him for sure, the booty call was the one to leave. Rotating his sore shoulder, Tig pulled the black comfortor over his head and returned to sleep.

* * *

><p>The black Corvette that belonged to Brielle came to a halt infront of the SoA customized Harley-Davidson and next to the dusty brown El Camino Tig owned. As Brielle hadn't seen another car, and her Mitsubishi SUV was still parked on the side driveway, she wondered if Tig had packed double and brought someone home. Brielle's stomache churned when she remembered the fight the day before and her night with Juice. From the bottom of her heart, she felt awful that they did what they had and wished she could take it back. But Juice had been there when no one else was willing to let her stay the night. Jax and Tara were having sex every chance possible (everyone knew by the look on their faces when they saw each other), and Opie was back on track with Donna. What happened had happened, and Brielle would go to the ends of the Earth to keep Tig from finding out.<p>

Groaning out of displeasure, and her slight case of upset stomach, she locked her car and headed towards the front door. Nervously, she picked the house key out of her mass of keys on the keyring. As she raised her hand to unlock the door, the door swung open from the inside. Behind it stood another woman. She wore skinny jeans, a royal blue tank top, and sneakers. Her hair was a nutty brown and her eyes were just a shade lighter than Brielle's. A malicious smirk grew on Brielle's face; Tig always went for the ones who had some kind of similarity to her. Whether it was intentional or not, Brielle wasn't sure.

"You must be Tig's old lady," The other woman spoke sourly, upset that her getaway had been interrupted. She folded her arms, shifted her weight to the other foot and didn't bother to close the door.

"And you're the tart that slept with my boyfriend. In my bed. Under my roof." Brielle quipped. She wondered, if the door was still open, why wasn't the dog running out to great her owner?

"Well," the younger woman sighed and began to walk from the threshold. "You can keep all of it. Besides, he kept calling me Brielle; my name's Mandy. Brielle's your name right? If not, he's in a lot of trouble."

Brielle watched the other woman walk down the driveway and retrieve her cell phone. Once she was out of Brielle's sights, she entered the home, locking the door behind her. Her mood began to sour further as she found a whining german shepard at the sliding glass door. The dog went straight for the couch she had accustomed herself to once she was let in, watching Brielle with wide, brown eyes.

In their room, she found Tig still in bed with the covers over his head to keep the sun out of his eyes. Walking slowly to the bed, Brielle mused about the color of curtains she should get and when she would force Tig to put them up. Gingerly, she peeled the sheets back to reveal his curly mop of hair and one hell of an ass kissing smile.

"Hey Brie," He cooed. "Where'd you stay last night?"

"I went to Juice's but he didn't answer the door so Clay and Gemma let me use a room," She spoke cooly. "Did you fuck her?" Tig was a bit taken aback as he sat up and raised an eyebrow. "Well? Did you?"

"With who?" He was curious if playing dumb would work. So he gave it his best shot.

"Mandy, the tart that I met coming into the house. Now is not the time to be playing dumb, Alexander." Brielle said gruffly while keeping her cool. Tig shut his eyes and laid on his back; so that was her name. It was rather unoriginal. Off the top of his head he could remember four hangarounds named Mandy. She dropped her purse on her side of the bed, the one Mandy had slept on, and went to the bathroom. Tig knew it ment trouble when she used is first name.

"Fine," He growled. She wanted the truth? Well, she was certainly going to get it. "I had sex with her. Happy now?"

Brielle spat out her toothpaste and glared at him from the bathroom. "You really are a piece of work, Alex."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tig drawled, sitting back up.

"Go to Hell."

With superhuman like speed, Tig jumped out of bed. The adrenaline rush in Tig's brain caused him to forget he had no clothes on. In two or three steps, he was an inch away from her face, standing in the bathroom. Both of them glared at the other, not backing down until someone gave in.

"'Go to Hell', huh?" Tig repeated.

"You're a pig," She hissed. "All you ever do is put yourself before anyone. Especially me. The only person who gets special treatment is Clay!"

"Do not make this about the club." He warned, pointing a finger in her face.

"But that's all this is ever about, Alex! The goddamn club! You don't let me into chapel if it doesn't appeal to you. And then, you refuse to tell me what went on in chapel, even if it involves one of my closest friends. You're mad if I go to a party, you're mad if I don't. I can't figure you out anymore."

"You..." Tig chuckled maniacally. It kind of creeped Brielle out, but she kept her composure. "You are such a self righteous bitch."

"I hate you," She snapped, her voice soft and venomous. Her breath landed softly on Tig's lips.

"I'm sure you do," Tig spoke sarcastically. "But for now, you need me. So, until you don't, you're just going to have to take it. Like the obediant old lady you are."

Tears brimmed her eyes and her bottom lip began to quiver. She wasn't sure what had made her cry; the fact that he was now reclaiming her as his old lady or that he was saying that all she was good for was sex. With as much force as she could muster, Brielle slapped his cheek, stinging her palm as she did so. Slowly, Tig turned his head to look back at her after the slap. That was the second time in a week that he had been slapped and deserved it.

As he watched one lonely, desolate tear slide down her face and drip off her chin, his heart sank. He had gone too far. Without hesitation, he pulled her to him, pushing his lips against hers. He could tell that there was uncertainty on her side and was slightly worried that she was going to reject him. The hammering in his chest stopped when she began to return the passion in his kiss.

"You're wrong, Alex," Brielle whispered when she pulled away from him. Her voice wavered with the threat of more tears being spilt.

"I know," He put their foreheads together. "You're none of those things I said-"

Brielle shook her head. "No, about me not needing you. You're wrong. I'm always going to need you."

After a few more kisses, Tig looked into the hazel eyes of his woman. She was right about the club. She hadn't always voted the same as he did in the past and that bothered him. He hadn't told Brielle about the last few chapels as to keep her under his thumb so that he could proxy her vote incase it was needed.

"You need to know something," Tig left the bathroom and began to get dressed. Brielle followed him and sat on the bed. She waited quietly, watching him choose his jeans and navy blue shirt from the closet. "Before chapel yesterday, Clay had me search for bugs, just incase Ope came back with something from wit pro. His cell phone had been tagged. There was one hidden in his truck too."

Brielle felt the color drain from her face. Clay and Tig were assuming Opie had turned. And with the recently found chips, their fears had been confirmed. "Please tell me it's not true."

"Why would I make this shit up, Brie?" Tig sat on the bed, pulling his boots onto his feet. Brielle laid onto the bed, a thin smile on her face. A small chuckle left her, quickly confusing the biker. "Something about a brother betraying the club funny?"

"No," She smiled. "Just that not even two minutes ago, we were fighting like Clay and Gemma and now we're having a civil conversation."

Tig was silent for a minute. "You think our fights are like Clay and Gemma's too?" Brielle shrugged. "Anyway, there's a chapel meeting in a few hours. Are you going to be there?"

Her hazel eyes lit up and a smile arrived on her face. "Yeah, I'll be there."

* * *

><p>Everyone sat in their normal seats with the exclusion of Half Sack, Bobby, and Tig. Tig was sweeping the outside of the chapel for any bugs that might have been put there. Bobby was still in Stockton and Clay had decided it wasn't a prospect needed meeting, allowing Brielle to sit in Bobby's seat. Inbetween Jax and Juice. Juice's mind raced; why was she sitting next to him? Couldn't she just temporarily trade seats with Chibs? She had changed since the night before, but he felt the sin of their actions was burnt on her face, constantly reminding him what had happened. He began to get fidgety.<p>

From her perihpery, Brielle noticed the biker's ticks. He was biting a thumb nail, something that was out of the ordinary for him. Setting the split ends of her hair down, Brielle gently collided her foot into his jiggling knee. She looked calmly at him, hoping her face would relay the message of 'calm down.' The worried look on his face slowly went away and turned into a somewhat pleasant smile. Finally, Tig entered the room with a scanner in his hand, gently shutting the door behind him. Relaxing again, Brielle was tempted to pick at the ends of her hair again but chose to light up a cigarette instead.

"We're good," Tig spoke before sitting down.

"Our retainer with Rosen is good for one more week. If this thing with Bobby goes to trial, we're going to have to pony up some serious up front cash." Clay spoke.

"We have every dime n the warehouse rebuild." Juice informed them, leaning on the table with both arms.

"I know," Clay nodded. "I talked to Alverez. Mayans want guns and they want them right away."

Jax looked curiously at his stepfather and president. "We ain't got nothing to sell. Irish don't start shipment until next month."

Brielle was beyond confused. Something about Irish guns? She didn't know anything about the guns that had happened recently. Not even that there was a new deal on the table. And the Mayans? Something she definitely was not cool with. Cooly, she flicked ash off her cigarette into an ashtray, a little added glare directed towards Tig. He caught the glare and gave way to a small sigh, still paying attention to Clay.

"We pull our security surplus. We'll seel 'em those."

"Wait a minute," Chibs leaned forward. "I thought we didn't sell that surplus."

"We don't." Jax confirmed, but still looked at Clay. Like a child who still needed confirmation from his father.

"We sell those guns it's a good will guesture. Mayans turn around and place a big order. They'll give us half the cash in advance."

"Leaves us nothing to protect the club." Jax rebuttled.

"You know, I'm out of ideas here, Jax. If we don't jump on this deal here, we lose it. I'm just trying to help Bobby here."

"I get that. But ATF's still camped out in Unser's office. You really wanna take that risk?"

"We can do this smart. Set up two locations in Oakland, right? We pick up the money from one, we drop the guns at the other. This way, even if the feds are watching us, they never see guns for money."

"Why would the feds still be trailing us?" Opie spoke softly. It was difficult for Brielle to keep silent.

"Maybe they're pissed off cause you didn't turn. You and Tig pick up the money, me and Jax drop off the guns." Clay ordered.

"I'll go with Ope and Tig." Piney decided, putting out a cigarette.

"No, no, no," Clay shook his head. "Fewer, the better. Why don't you just...go up to the warehouse. Tell me how that's going." Jax looked back and forth from Clay to Piney. Brielle put out her cigarette and began to lightly scratch her elbow, hoping to avoid the on coming storm.

"Some bullshit errand," Piney growled. Standing from the table he headed to the door. "I got stuff to do."

The door shut behind the old man, and the rest tried to seem as if the altercation hadn't happened at all.

"Alright, well, I still want to know how the warehouse is going. Brie, Juice. Can I rely on you two?"

Brielle nodded, twisting her hair into a temporary pony tail. "Sure thing, boss."

"Yeah," Juice nodded, hoping his palor wasn't disappearing. "We'll do it, uh, it'll get done."

Despite the awkwardness Piney had left in the room, laughs were shared as Juice tried to cover his blunder. He hadn't ment for the remark to be dirty, it just came out that way.

"Oh, Gemma wants to make sure you guys are at Jax's house tonight before seven," Brielle called out as everyone stood from their respective chairs and before Tig smothered her in kisses.

"Ack! Is the honeymoon ever over with you two?" Chibs pretended to vomit. Like a child, Brielle hid her face in Tig's cut, trying to hide her blush.

"11 years in the making. Pick a date!" Clay joined in.

_'The Honeymoon' had been over yesterday,_ Juice frowned. He wanted to know their secret, how they could get so angry at each other and then literally seconds or hours later, everything was okay. It confused him. How could such a kindred spirit like hers be with someone as coarse and weird at Tig? Something about that seemed skewed to him. But he supposed love was like gravity; not much could stop it. Which was why he was beginning to feel worse. Could love be his reason he didn't think they should be together? No, he shouldn't be falling for a brother's old lady. He didn't want to fall in love. A love triangle was the last thing this club needed.

* * *

><p><strong>Bleh, corny ending, I know. But it kind of sets up what I want to do and what my readers might like. I'm going to try and stay on a schedule of updating every Tuesday before or after a new episode. Thanks for reading (even if it's less than satisfactory), and please, please, PLEASE, review c: muchas grasias! Oh, and I wanted to say, I hope everyone had an okay September 11th. For those who lost someone in the attacks, they will be deeply missed but always remembered :] Okay, enough rambling!<strong>


	10. The Death of an Era

**For those of you who live on the East coast or in the central time zone and are wondering why I haven't updated, I live on the West coast so I get to watch it after you guys do. Lamezors right? Ah well, here's chapter 10. I start on season 2 next update.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter ten<strong>

A soft knock on the front door echoed through the whole house. Gemma padded to the foyer, trying to open the door quietly. Despite how slowly she turned the knob, there was still a very loud click. Behind the door was Gemma's current favorite of the old ladies. With tear stains streaked down her face, Brielle Clark smiled a bit, giving Gemma a small wave.

Gemma tsked and opened the door wider for Brielle. The older woman guestered for her to come in and shut the door once Brielle did. Brielle shuffled to the kitchen while Gemma happily led her there. Setting her purse down on the table, Brielle took a seat. She craddled her headas Gemma brought her a fresh cup of coffee that she had been brewing while waiting. A thin, pleased smile came to her face as she took a sip, realising Gemma hadn't forgotten the way she liked her coffee.

"What happened, baby?" Gemma spoke softly, sitting on the other side of Brielle. A hot cup of coffee sat in front of Gemma as well.

"I'm sure Clay's told you about the fight Tig and I had," She sighed.

"Yes. But there's something else on your mind now, isn't there?"

Brielle sighed again and ran a hand through her hair. What had happened with Juice not even an hour ago was still on her mind. She wondered if she should tell Gemma. Surely, Gemma would tell Clay and Clay would blab to Tig. However, Gemma had been more of a mother to her than her actual mother had been. If she couldn't trust Gemma, who could she trust?

"Gemma, this stays between us. Alex cannot find out." Although she trusted Gemma, there was no problem with talking to her about it. Gemma nodded, waiting for whatever was next. "I went to Juice's apartment before coming here. Erm, we kissed and it got carried away."

"Jesus, Brielle. You didn't really-"

"No. I stopped it before it got anymore serious."

Gemma nodded, dunking the bag of tea three times more even though it had already been soaked long enough. She couldn't blame the younger woman; she had done the same thing with Clay. She had loved John, married him, but fell in love with Clay the first moment she saw him. The Queen of the Sons trusted Brielle to make the right decision and to decide which was the right man for her.

* * *

><p>Juice dragged his feet as Brielle followed him to his bike. They had agreed that taking his bike would be easier than Brielle's car. The construstion foreman knew all of the Son's bikes and it would have probably been an issue if an unknown car with an unknown driver arrived at a private construction site. Brielle felt under pressure, like she was being watched as she put on the spare helmet and gripped Juice around his stomach. Looking back at the clubhouse, she noticed Tig sitting at the picnic table infront of the clubhouse, watching her and ignoring the hangaround that was trying to get his attention. Although she had already given him a loving kiss goodbye, she softly smiled and gave a small wave. All she recieved was a cold, open palmed goodbye from him.<p>

Turning her head, Brielle pressed her cheek against Juice's cut, and closed her eyes. With a roar, the bike rocketted out of the compound, headed for the building site. Biting her lip as Juice continued to speed up on Interstate 5, constantly dodging cars, she wondered if she was going to have the imprint of the Reaper on her cheek. As the bike slowed to a stop, Brielle opened her eyes. They were still on I-5, but Juice had pulled over onto the side road. Once Brielle let go of Juice's midsection, he took off his helmet and looked at Brielle. His ringed hands sat on his hips and he was squinting in an attempt to keep the sun out of his eyes, even though he wore sunglasses.

"Something wrong?" Brielle asked, her hair fluttering in the breeze after she took her helmet off.

"It's about last night," Juice sighed, putting his right hand on the handlebar, his left hand still on his hip. He was still squinting. "We need to talk."

Brielle ran a hand through her hair and squinted through her sunglasses too. "You really want to talk about it, huh?" Juice nodded. "Alright, we'll talk later. But how about not on the side of a busy highway? We'll check out the warehouse and then go for lunch."

"Alright, okay." Juice put his helmet on, as did Brielle. She barely got her arms around him before he launched back onto the highway cutting a couple cars off and earning some rude fingers. It wasn't long before they arrived at the construction site. More than ten men busied themselves with pouring concrete or raising walls.

As the motorcycle purred to silence, a professional wearing man with a very angry look approached them. His neon orange hard hat clashed with his expensive looking suit. It was obvious by the clipboard he held, this man was the foreman.

"Who is she? Clay will not be happy to know that his men are bringing croweaters to his private property!" The man shouted over the construction work, pointing an accusing finger at Brielle. She felt a bit insulted and confused. Brielle was certainly no croweater and how did this guy even know what a croweater was?

"Oh, she's no croweater," Juice spoke, stepping infront of Brielle. "She's Zane's younger sister and we trust her. Including Clay. If you don't believe me, you can call him. But he is busy at the moment. Your choice; we're just making sure everything's going right."

Behind the biker, she bit her lip. The foreman glanced behind Juice, and nodded. With one hand on the biker's shoulder, the foreman took Juice away to show him what new was going on. Deciding that she had seen what she needed, she sat on Juice's bike. She was only really at the site because Piney threw a fit. And she wanted to get away from the clubhouse for a while. She retrieved her cell phone and began to go through the texts she had recently recieved. One was from an old co-worker from LA which she ignored, and the other from Zane. Earlier, he had asked her to take Elizabeth to Abel's welcome home party, but now he was telling her nevermind, that Kelli had thrown a fit and the plans were off.

The sound of boots on asphalt told Brielle that Juice was returning to his bike. Brielle put away her phone and stood to put on her helmet and allow Juice to get on his bike. "Where are we going for lunch?"

"How about that diner next to Lumpy's gym?" She offered.

Juice only shrugged. "Alright."

Once they arrived at the diner, Juice parked his bike in the front of the restaurant and followed Brielle in. The sign at the hostesses stand told them to choose their own seat and that a waitress would be with them shortly. Brielle picked a two person booth and gracefully slid in while Juice dropped his ass like a pile of bricks. Just like the sign had said, a waitress immediately appeared at their table, giving them menu's and taking their drink orders. Once their drinks came, coffees and extra creamers for Brielle, she decided it was time to talk.

"What's bothering you, Juice?" She asked, idly stirring her coffee.

"About last night, it made me realize that there's a definite chemistry between us. And, I just don't get how you can stay with Tig when he's never going to stop sleeping with croweaters."

A lump grew in Brielle's throat. She knew what he was saying was true. It was just Tig's way to be like that. He was sexually driven and despite how Brielle was willing to do, literally, anything for him, Tig was never going to give her what she wanted. It had been like this for eleven years, almost twelve. She stayed because she loved him and bent over backwards for the club as well because she thought it would make him happy. He was always going to do what he needed - no, what he wanted.

"Brie, I don't mean to sound awful, but he's not going to give you what you want. At least not in the time frame you're thinking of."

"And what is it you think I want?" She asked calmly, her hazel eyes looking softly into Juice's browns.

"What every single, 30 year old woman wants. A faithful partner, marriage, a nice house, kids," The harsh look on Juice's face seemed to disappear. "Brie, you deserve happiness, and I have not seen him make you happier for more than two days and then it's back to fighting. You deserve to be with someone who offers you constant happiness."

She was a bit surprised that such a heartfelt speech came from Juice. He was a goofy fellow who often messed up and wasn't always needed by the club. But he was a good guy, and obviously there was more to him under the mohawk and tattoos.

"I'm guessing that you're suggesting I leave Tig for you?" Brielle asked again.

A light blush came to his Puerto Rican cheeks, a smile following suit. "Who else, right? Jax and Ope are your other two options and they're taken. And unless you like older men, like Bobby and Piney, Chibs and I are your only choice-"

"But Chibs has a wife. And you forgot Happy."

"Did I? Well, he and Tig are practically one in the same so I just assumed that he wasn't an option."

A soft chuckle left Brielle. Juice was relieved to see a smile on her face. "I have something to admitt you as well, Juice. I haven't been able to stop thinking about last night either. And since we've started being closer friends, I suppose I can say there is chemistry between us," Juice began to smile which faded when she began to talk again. "But there's a problem."

"A problem?" Juice repeated.

"Yes," Brielle knitted her eyebrows together. "Tig. He's begun to call me his old lady again. I can't leave right now for another SAMCRO member."

Their conversation fell silent when the waitress returned, refilling their coffee cups and taking their orders. when she left, Juice took a long sip of his coffee and ran a hand down the strip of hair he had. Brielle opened her mouth to speak, but Juice held up a hand, waving it a bit. After another sip of his coffee, he spoke.

"Enough about Tig and all this, let's just talk."

"About what?" Brielle asked, peering through her sidebangs.

"Let's see, I'll ask a question then you ask one. Like, where were you born?" Juice suggested, but Brielle was willing to get off the subject of Tig. So she took the bait.

"Charming, born and raised. How about yourself?"

"Queens, New York. Born and raised, left as soon as I could."

A surprised smile grew on Brielle's face. "I didn't know that. What brought you to Charming?"

"It's a long story, I'll save it for another time. My turn, right?" Brielle nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. "Alright, where'd you go to college?"

"San Joaquin University. Because Alex was deployed in the Marines at the time, I lived at the dorm. I remember being so angry when he was at the bar with his Marine buddies instead of at my graduation. He had gotten leave for it but wasn't even there." There was a short lived silence between the two before Brielle asked her question. "What's your favorite color?"

"Blue," Juice said without hesitation. "Your favorite animal?"

With a lopsided grin, she answered. "Lions. Yours?"

"Probably dog. I've always liked German shepards even though I've had a few bite me when I was younger. Do personal questions count?" He asked jusst as their food arrived and their coffees were refilled for the thrid time.

"Sure." Brielle answered as she put a french fry in her mouth.

"If you were to find out right now that you're expecting a baby, would you rather have a boy or a girl?"

Brielle bit her lip as her hand hovered over her fries. Other than getting the empty womb feeling everytime she saw a baby, Brielle hadn't really thought about which gender she really wanted. She continued to think about children, something she didn't see happening anytime soon if she stayed with Tig. Brielle began to think what if she was with Juice instead of Tig? Granted he was a lot younger than her current biker, but could he really be ready for marriage? And if she had been with Juice instead of Tig, would her life be different? She didn't even want to think about the drama that would ensue if she left Tig right now for another member.

* * *

><p>Tig and Brielle sat at the two person black leather couch at Jax's house. Many other people, SAMCRO and non-members, waited for the proud parents of Abel Teller to return with their son. Women crowded the kitchen, a few sat or stood in the living room and almost all of the members of the Redwood Chapter were scattered in the living room. Ellie and Kenny Winston sat on either side of Piney. Brielle watched quietly, thinking to herself.<p>

As donna and Opie watch their children interact with their grandfather, wide smiles on both of their faces, Brielle kept herself from frowning. She couldn't stop thinking about what she and Juice had talked about. It was true, she wanted what Donna and Opie had; a faithful partner, a couple kids. She thought by now she would have at least been married. Maybe even expecting. It should have been her welcome home party for her child, she shouldn't be sitting around, waiting for her best friend and his defunct ex wife to return with their spawn.

Brielle glanced over at Tig. What if she hadn't ever left for LA? Would they have been married? Had a kid? Would Tig still be cheating? silently, she scoffed. Tig was not the marrying type. And definitely not a fathering type either.

"Hey," Tig nudged her gently with his elbow. "Are you alright?"

A light smile grew on her face. "Of course, just thinking."

"About what?" Curiousity lit up his blue eyes. Brielle's smile grew wider; she kind of liked that he was interested in what wshe was thinking. Had he really turned over a new leaf?

"A lot of stuff," She shrugged, still smiling. "I'll tell you later."

"Don't forget," TIg warned, taking a short drink from his strong, dark liqour. How coudl she forget? Never theless, she smiled again.

"I won't," She promised. "Do you mind if I chat with Donna for a bit? Just wanna see how she and Ope are doing."

The two shared a steely look. She hadn't really needed to ask, but since he had reclaimed her as old lady, it was a necessary for her to sak. Still, Tig wasn't fond of it. Earlier, he had been told by Clay to put a bullet in Opie's skull at the cash drop. He hadn't been able to so Clay had told him to make Opie's drive home 'ghetto,' and 'gangsta.' The president was trying to fram the Niners.

"C'mon, babe," She purred, her lips in a slight pout. "I haven't talked to Donna in a while."

He was pleasantly surprised by the use of the pet name. Enough so that he gave her a smile and light kiss before she followed Donna into the kitchen. Although he had given Brielle the okay, he watched Juice, who sat in the recliner on the otherside of the living room. Tig didn't like how close Juice and Brielle were getting. He was the one who was allowed to do whatever - or rather, who - he wanted, not her. The biker didn't really have any proof that Juice and Brielle had done anything...yet.

Juice was watching Piney interact with his grandchildren. He felt as if there was someone, staring at him, boring into his soul. In the corner of his eye, he saw Tig, resting his head against his fist, his blue eyes glaring at Juice. For as long as Juice had known him, he still wasn't used to those creepy blue eyes. He wondered why Tig was glaring at him, and decided to remedy it by taking Brielle's seat next to Tig.

Brielle watched as Donna stood infront of the fridge, wondering what she was going to drink. She was so short and thin, almost frail compared to her husband. But nevertheless, she and Opie fit better than a jigsaw puzzle. Brielle hated that she knew tonight was the last Donna was ever going to see Opie alive. How badly she wanted to tell her friend, but knew if anyone found out Brielle had blabbed, it'd be worse for her.

"If you're looking for something harder to drink Jax has some really good whiskey in the pantry," Brielle spoke, giving Donna a little jump.

"No, I'm actually looking for soda or water. I'm driving home." Donna grinned.

"Good luck, finding soda or water isn't easy at SAMCRO parties."

Donna nodded. "It really is. Hey, I want to thank you," she reached out to give Brielle a tight and friendly hug.

"For what?" Brielle cocked her head to the side.

"For talking to me, you know when I went crazy at the shop. Well, Opie confronted me the next day, I was packing to leave him. And it just dawned on me that what you and Jax and Gemma have been telling me is true. Opie loves me and the kids and he's just earning money the way he wants to. It may not be honest money, but it keeps me from losing my home."

"No need to thank me, Donna," Brielle smiled. "Just love Ope for who he is and the father he's become."

"So," Donna put her hands in her back pockets and screwed up her face. "What's up with you a Juice? I thought you were with Tig."

Brielle raised an eyebrow. "I am with Tig."

"Uh-huh," Donna smiled again. "I've seen the looks shared between you two. By the way, I love your dress."

With a laugh Brielle rolled her eyes. Before she could say anything, there was a bunch of hooting and hollering from the living room. Donna and Brielle shared a smile and went to where the noises were being made. Jax, Wendy, and Gemma had walked into the house, jax holding his son while Clay offered his grandchild a sip of beer. Donna excused herself and stood next to her husband. Wendy's brown eyes captured Brielle's. A wide smile grew on the ex junkie's face. She opened her arms, embracing Brielle in quite a surprising hug. The last Brielle saw of Wendy, the woman was shooting crank every four hours and barely remembered who Jax and her in laws were. But they had been friends before the crank was an issue; Brielle wondered if she remembered that.

"Isn't he beautiful, Brie?" Wendy purred, gazing lovingly at her son.

"He certainly is," Brielle agreed, telling every ounce of the truth. "I saw him at the hospital a few weeks ago. Tara did a great job fixing him up."

"Don't remind me," Wendy frowned. "It's all my fault he needed two risky surgeries-"

"No, Wendy." Brielle interrupted. "One of them was your fault. You should not have taken so much crank - let alone, any at all while pregnant. But the heart thing, that's genetic. You can't out run genetics."

Wendy seemed choked up, like she was about to burst in tears. But nevertheless, she held them back and nodded. "You're right. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the party. Great dress, by the way."

Brielle looked down at her fuschia corset dress with printed flowers on it. That was the second compliment on this dress within two minutes. After thanking Wendy, she went back to the two person couch. In her spot was a bottle blonde, a wide fake smile on her face, obviously flirting with Brielle's man. Narrowing her eyes and putting her black polished fingernailed hands on her hips, Brielle cleared her throat. The blonde saw her and stood from the couch, headed towards the kitchen.

As she plopped onto the couch, Tig pulled her closer, placing a kiss on her temple. She leaned her head against his shoulder, fishing her cell phone from her dress pocket to check the time. It was only eight-something and she was getting very tired. But she didn't want to leave; Jax had just gotten home with Abel and he was passing the child around, in a cirlce, for everyone to hold. Brielle couldn't help but chuckle. There was a time where she remembered all Jax passed around in a circle was a joint. He had looked a bit like Kurt Cobain then and all the girls were gaga for Jackson Teller. Tara Knowles crossed the room, standing as far away as she could from Wendy.

The baby skipped a hangaround or two after Piney held him. Last thing those women wanted was a baby. Jax came to the two person couch where Tig and Brielle had made base camp. There was a gleam in the VP's eyes that knew Tig wasn't up to holding Abel, but that Brielle was. A mischevious smile rose on Jax's lips as he placed the infant in his friend's arms.

Inwardly, Brielle cursed Jax. Abel had to be the cutest baby she had seen. Ellie and Kenny had been pretty cute when they were born. But no one could deny the cherubic cheeks and glittering blue eyes of Abel Teller. His tiny hands rose, opening and closing slowly, trying to grasp a lock of Brielle's hair. She had been so enamored with the child, she ws a little surprised when Tig brushed her hair behind her shoulder to keep the baby from getting a death grip. Brielle looked over at Tig, who smiled at her. He held his cup of liquor on his knee while leaning forward a bit to peer at the baby.

"You know what everyone's going to say, right?" She spoke softly, so that Tig could only hear.

"No," He said quietly. "And what would that be?"

"So," Piney spoke loudly, drawing everyone's attention to him and the couple on the couch. "When are you two procreating?"

Laughs were shared throughout the living room, a light blush running across Brielle's cheeks. Gemma, being her overprotective self, gently took Abel from Brielle. Although she wanted to hold him a bit longer, she was glad grandma had taken him. She wasn't sure how much attention she could take being focused on her.

Brielle leaned onto her biker again. "Told you so," She whispered while he chuckled.

A few hours passed and people began leaving the party. Tara had made quite a scene and Jax had given Juice the assignment of making sure Tara got home safe. Right as Tara left, the Winstons stood and approached Jax, letting him know they were leaving as well. Brielle's stomach jumped. She glanced over at Tig, who downed the rest of his liquor. He gave her hair a soft tug and a gentle smile before heading out the door behind Opie. She felt the color drain from her face and her stomach churned instead of jumping. Getting to her feet, Brielle began her goodbyes. After a tight hug and a congratulations to Jax, she left the house and got into her car.

Opie and Donna stood infront of Donna's green Ford Focus, discussing something. Tig's bike was already halfway down the street, the roar barely audible. Her black Mitsubishi started silently, a huge difference compaired to the dinosaur of her Corvette. Brielle went the long way home; she didn't want to see any of the possible scenes for Opie's murder. No, she shouldn't think of it like that. Even though Opie was one of her closest friends, he had turned. And the club couldn't allow a rat. Brielle's mind raced to the ninties, remembering her father being reluctant about voting to get rid of Lowell Sr. when it had been discovered he had ratted.

Not bothering to brake softly, Brielle parked infront of the curb like she normally did and shut off the SUV. She pressed the lock button on the inside panel of the door and shut it, walking to the house. Brielle hesitated unlocking the front door; she felt as if she were going to be sick if she entered the house. Pulling the skirt of her dress so the back of her legs wouldn't touch the dirty step infront of the door, she sat and retrieved her cell phone. There was a text, from Juice, waiting for her to read it and reply. She ignored the text and rested her head on her knees; she felt woozy.

A tear slipped down her cheek when she couldn't stop thinking about the past. Jax, Opie, Tara, her parents, Lily, Zane, Tig, herself. Nothing was going to be the same anymore after Opie was gone. Hell, nothing was ever normal with the Sons. There was a high pitched ring, her phone vibrating as well as she recieved a call. Groggily, she looked at the screen. A miniture picture of Tig showed up above the name she had given him for her cell phone contact. With shaky fingers, she pressed the green button and put the phone to her ear.

"H-h-hello?"

"Brie, you're needed. Main and fifth."

With a breath as nervous as her fingers, more tears fell down her cheeks. "Okay. I'll, uh, I'll be there in five minutes."

The scene was a mess. Opie's brown Dodge Prospect sat at the traffic light, the back window had been shot out. Several Sons stood around the inside of the yellow tape. Someone wailed at the top of his lungs. It sounded too deep to be Donna crying; Brielle assumed it was Piney mourning the loss of his son. With a jerk, she threw the car into park and yanked the emergency brake up, not bothering to roll her windows up. Jumping out of the SUV, Brielle trotted to the yellow tape where Unser allowed her in.

Opie was the one bawling in the middle of the street, hunched over the body of Donna. Immdeiately, Brielle gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. This was not good. She looked to her left and saw Tig standing next to Juice; Juice had his hands behind his head and Tig kept his on his hips. As she walked towards them, she felt like someone had pressed the slow-mo button or she was walking waist deep in molasses.

"What the Hell happened?" Brielle asked, once she got to the two bikers. Although it was obvious what happened and she knew that Tig had accidentally shot Donna, she felt asking what happened would prove she had no knowledge of what Clay and Tig planned.

"Donna was driving to the store to get some dishwasher power for Gemma," Tig drawled, rubbing his eyes then crossing his arms. "She took the truck and Opie took the kids home in her car."

"Unser and Clay think a gangbanger rolled up and shot her, expecting Opie to be in the truck, not her." Juice spoke next.

"Holy shit," she uttered as Tig put an arm around her. Her hands moved to her cheeks, and a short breath left her as her head fell onto Tig's chest. The lie was painfully obvious to her. The heavy sound of boots approaching told Brielle that Clay, the only one she really knew that would walk that heavily, stood behind them.

"Why don't you, ah, you guys go home. It's been a long day." Clay spoke softly, an eerie sense of sorrow filled his voice. The three of them nodded, and turned to leave the crime scene.

"Are you guys coming back to the clubhouse?" Juice asked, mostly looking at Brielle.

"No," Tig answered for both of them. "Like Clay said, it's been along day."

"We'll see you tomorrow though, okay?" A small smile lifted the corners of Brielle's lips. Juice nodded, said goodnight, and went to his bike, headed for the clubhouse bar.

Tig followed Juice to his bike, and Brielle went the other way to her SUV. She kept herself from looking at her friends, Jax and Opie, who were holding each other tightly. Brielle didn't want to see tears falling down their faces. The death of Donna was enough, seeing two strong men broken was the last thing she wanted to witness. Once Juice and Tig roared away, Brielle turned her car away from the mess and drove home.

While she parked on the curb, Tig parked his bike in the driveway, walking in front of the Corvette and El Camino. The Mitsubishi Outlander honked once, telling the whole neighborhood that her truck was locked. The slam of the front door told Brielle that Tig had already entered the home. Once she entered, she noticed Bailey, curled into a furry ball on the couch. She wondered when Zane was going to take the dog back. He had, after all, finally gotten his own place.

Brielle shut and locked the door, then dropped her keys on the table next to the door. From the living room, she heard the sounds of shattered glass, tinkling onto the ceramic tile of the bathroom. Cautiously, she ventured to the master bedroom and found Tig, hugging a pillow on the bed. Exhaling from her nose she kicked off her heels and went to her dresser. From a drawer, she retrived sweatpants, slipping them on under her dress. Pulling the dress over her head, she tossed it on the floor and put an old tshirt on.

Tig traded the pillow for Brielle's lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. Leaning against the head board, she ran her fingers through his hair. It wasn't until she heard a slight hiss from him that she realised there was a bleeding cut on his forhead. Brielle pieced together that he had rammed his head into the bathroom mirror. _Jesus Christ,_ she thought. _What on earth have I gotten myself into - again?_

* * *

><p><strong>I know. It was really long :P By the way, don't forget about my poll! I think I have it pretty much decided, but I want to know what YOU think :] reviews please! DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything SoA, FX, or Kurt Sutter related.<strong>


	11. A Gutsy Move

**Because this chapter ended up being so long, I split it into two chapters. I will be posting 12 later tonight. A special thanks to jennifer11 and Sanity's-Overrated for all the help. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven<strong>

In a tall oak tree in the front yard, a mockingbird mimicked the honking horn of a VW rabbit. The sun flooded through the small openings the tree offered. A German Shepard slept, belly up and warmed by the sun, in the grassy backyard. Silence was the theme inside the house where Brielle and Tig shared a bed. The two slept in the same position as they had fallen asleep in; Brielle laid on her back, one hand knotted in Tig's hair while the other rested on his cheek. Tig rested his head on her left breast, a small drip of drool leaving his mouth. The sun was kept out of their room and faces by the blanket Brielle had hung up by tacks over the window the night before.

The heavy oak front door, clicked open and then shut. Bailey, alerted from the backyard, jumped up from her sunny spot and rushed to the sliding glass door, wagging her tail while she barked. Zane Clark, Brielle's older brother, strode to the back door and slid it open. The German dog bounded in, running circles around her owner. With his knee, Zane nudged the dog away. Holding a child and trying to walk around a hovering dog wasn't easy. Goofily, Bailey jumped onto the couch and watched Zane and Elizabeth.

"Daddy," Elizabeth leaned back to face her father. "Can I wake up aunt Brielle and uncle Alex?"

With a twisted smile, Zane set his daughter down. "Sure thing, baby. Make sure you're really loud, kay?"

"Okay, daddy!" The five year old grinned at her father and flew like a bat out of hell into the back of the house.

Brielle and Tig still slept, even through the massive amount of noise Zane was making in the kitchen, trying to find the coffee filters and ground coffee. The door to their bedroom opened slowly, the head of a five year old peeking from behind it. With the grace of a cat, Elizabeth dashed into the room and jumped onto the bed, her knee landing on Tig's ankle. He jolted, waking to the sharp pain caused by the five year old's knee cap. The shock of Tig moving woke Brielle as well, both of their eyes opening in the slightest to see the girl hovering above them.

"Aunty! Wake up!" Elizabeth shouted.

Both adults groaned, turning to the other.

"Are you going to kill your brother, or should I?" Tig grumbled into Brielle's sternum.

"Thinking about it," Brielle replied, hugging Tig's head.

Elizabeth began to jump on the bed excitedly. "C'mon, sillies! Time to wake up! Daddy's in the kitchen making coffee. He wants to talk to youse."

By the time both Tig and Brielle arrived in the kitchen, dressed and prepared for the day, the coffee had been ready for two or three minutes. Zane sat at their heavy pine dinner table with a piping mug of coffee infront of him. Going to the pantry, Tig retrieved a box of cereal while Brielle got two clean bowls from the dishwasher. With the same eyes that he shared with his late father and sisters, Zane watched the two as they worked in sync, getting the milk from the fridge, pouring each other coffee, getting spoons for their cereal.

"Even in the early hours of almost noon you two work perfectly together," Zane commented before sipping his coffee.

"Die in a hole, Zane," Brielle snapped, sitting next to her brother who had taken Tig's seat at the head of the table.

"Does not play well with others, noted," Zane narrowed his eyes.

"Perhaps if someone could control his spawn to not wake people who've had a rather tough night..." Tig mumbled under his breath.

"Also does not play well..." Zane rolled his eyes. "We all had a rough night, Tig. It's not every day that an old lady gets murdered."

Brielle saw the look of hurt on Tig's face and decided to play interference between her brother and the man she loved. "Alright, change of subject. Why are you here?"

"Clay called me because neither of you were answering your phones. Told me to relay a message; that you two need to be at chapel today, which is in about an hour. Also, Brie, you need to go to the police station and get procession stickers for the funeral tomorrow. Clay thinks there's going to be at least a hundred guys." Zane explained as Elizabeth climbed into his lap.

Brielle breathed in sharply, finshed her cereal and took the empty bowl to the sink. "Guess I better alert Hale about all the bikers coming here, huh?"

Once she gave Tig a soft kiss goodbye, she gave Zane a sharp slap along side his head and her neice a tender hung goodbye, she left the house. From the kitchen the remaining three could hear the roar of Brielle's Corvette come to life for the first of many times that day. Rising from the table, Tig went to the sink, and washed out his dishes as well.

"So," Zane began, adjusting his black leather cut as he spoke. "When're you and my sister finally going to settle down?"

As Tig left the kitchen he scoffed. "Lock the front door and put the dog out when you leave, will you?"

* * *

><p>Brielle couldn't be in a mood worse than shewas now. Not only had she been jerked around like a ragdoll at the police station, but she had missed the chapel meeting. As she was moodily striding in, Piney was storming out with Jax on his heels. She barely got out of the way before Piney could run her ass over trying to get out of the door.<p>

"Where's Piney going?" She asked Jax.

"He and Clay blew up. Where were you?" Jax paused to speak with her.

Brielle rolled her eyes before replying. "Went to the police station, got held up by Stahl. She decided to ask me about Donna's murder."

"Well, go on into chapel. They're not really talking much anymore."

They shared an awkward, soft smile and went their own ways. Although Jax had already told her to go into chapel, she knocked apprehensively on the door. From behind them, the gruff voice of Clay allowed her to enter. When she opened the door, it seemed as if the moral of the room brightened as she entered. Juice's head lifted from where it rested on the table, Tig and Chibs turned to face her, and Clay straightened in his chair.

Shutting the door, Brielle ventured to the empty chair next to Juice. The seat where Bobby usually sat. Once she got comfortable, she reached into her purse and put the small amount of stickers Hale had given her for the funeral.

"Um, ten stickers is not going to cover the guys we have coming down." Clay uttered, raising an eyebrow.

"I know, Clay," Brielle crossed her left leg over her right. "Hale only gave me ten because San Joaquin didn't expect the amount of bikers that would show up for Alvarez's kid's funeral. SJ was also not expecting the Mayan body count thanks to the Niner's the other day and swiped Charming's procession stickers. Hale's supposed to be calling me around three or four."

The president nodded, before speaking again. "Why were you late?"

"Stahl's been reassigned to Charming," She stated with a sour smile on her face. "Apparently, Donna's murder is now of federal intrest. She decided to ask me why Donna had been mistaken for Ope or if I knew if Donna had participated in anything sketchy lately."

"And?" Tig asked.

"What do you think I told her?" Brielle rolled her eyes. "That she's been involved with the inside workings of SAMCRO since she married Ope and that I had too? No, I told her that Donna had been an innocent, gone too soon."

"Good," Clay spoke again. "Does she suspect anything about your involvment?"

Brielle briskly shook her head. "If she does, she hasn't said anything about it."

Chibs snorted. "Yet."

* * *

><p>Brielle barely listened to the priest as she stood next to Tig in the mass of mourners at the cemetary. Earlier, before the service had started, Opie had offered her a seat next to him and the kids but she chose to stand. Not because she had an adversion to the Winston family, she was just more comfortable standing. Across from where she stood, Juice stood just behind the seat Tara had picked. Occasionally, the brown eyes of the Puerto Rican often caught the gaze of Brielle's hazel eyes. Light smiles would flicker across both of their faces before they remembered where they were.<p>

Jax hadn't been part of the ceremony at all. He had barely even made it. Brielle saw Tig tense up when the vice president sauntered to the casket, took the last blue and white carnation, kissed it, and set it on Donna's new resting place. While he did this, he looked at his mother, stepfather and Tig. Brielle could see the wildfire burning in Jax's eyes before he left.

Once the priest had finished his prayers, the crowd dispersed. Most of the bikers went to their motorcylces and the women went to the cars they had driven to the cemetary in. As the crowd went one way, Brielle went the other, looking for her father's headstone. The memorium to Raymond Clark sat pristine in the ground, cleaned to the point where it looked untouched by rain or sun. For the millionth time in her life, she read the inscription on the headstone: 75th Ranger Infantry Regiment "Death From Above", loving father, RIP.

"I didn't know your old man was in the same infantry as Clay," The soft, curious voice of Juice spoke from behind her. He had given her a bit of a shock, making her jump when he spoke. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"No, it's alright," She smiled at the prospect. "And yeah, it's how he got into the Sons. He and Clay were pretty close."

Juice stuck his hands in his back pockets, absently nodding to what she had said. "Um, Tig sent me to get you, I guess." He pointed to the group of Sons that stood probably 100 feet away at Donna's gravesite. From where she stood, Brielle could pick out the brown curls that belonged to Tig rustle softly in the wind. She ignored that Tig had sent for her and continued gazing at her father's grave. There were so many things wrong with Tig sending Juice to get her. Why couldn't he walk the short distance himself?

"I miss him." She noted, trying to keep herself from crying. This caught Juice's attention. He could hear the lump in her throat and the tears threatening to spill over.

"Sounds like he was a good dad," Juice put an arm around her shoulder, turning her away from the headstone.

"He was the best." She corrected, feeling like Zane had something to do with how Juice was bringing her back to the others. "What about yours?"

"Never really knew mine, but we'll talk about that later," He looked down at her. Before arriving infront of the other bikers, Juice released her, adding a wink.

* * *

><p>The sound of several automatic hand guns filled the air. Cartridges from the ammo hit the ground while the lead that had been the tip of the cartridges peppered several stacks of lumber with targets taped to the wood. Brielle stood next to Cameron and Edmond Hayes, a smoldering cigarette inbetween her pointer and middle finger. The three of them watched as five men shot wildly at the targets, Half Sack on the sidelines, waiting for the five to reload. Once the shooting stopped, the prospect rushed to the targets to change them out before the patched in members began shooting again.<p>

"So," Brielle turned to the Irishmen who were dealing to the Sons. The air was eerily silent without the sound of automatic weapons firing and Brielle's ears slightly rang. "Wanna tell me about the guns?"

Cameron looked at her like she had a hole in her head, wondering what she had asked. But Edmond understond the question and spoke up for his father. "Light, easy to conceal in a saddle bag. Each clip can hold 150 rounds, the gun it's self shoots 20 rounds a second. They don't often jam, but when they do, put the saftey on, pull this back, dig that li'le bullet out 'o there and continue with your business."

Edmond finished just as the five began to go crazy on the targets again. Luckily, Half Sack had gotten out of the way quick enough. Watching the Sons again, Brielle nodded and dropped her cigarette butt to the ground. She wasn't sure who she should be allowed to be caught focusing on; Juice or Tig. Her problem had gotten worse since her lunch date with Juice three weeks ago. The feelings she had for Juice were becoming stronger, but the way she felt for Tig wasn't exactly going away either. Despite how annoyed she could get at the latter of the two, he had been there for her for 11 years. It was tough to cut the emotional ties she had to him.

Again, the shooting stopped and Half Sack ran to refresh the targets. Like the douche he could often be, Tig aimed to the right of the prospect, firing off several rounds. The rookie howled at the high velocity projectiles coming towards his body and shielded himself as a few others joined in on firing near him. With a smile on his face, Clay approached the Irishmen and Brielle, who was currently busy with putting her hair in a ponytail.

"Brie?" Clay spoke, non chalantly asking for the information she got.

She nodded. "They seem trustworthy. Edmond says they jam, but as you know, if you keep a gun clean, it'll never jam."

"Alright, shall we get down to business?" Clay, too, nodded, motioning towards the warehouse that had finally been rebuilt. The Irishmen lead the way, but Brielle slowly retreated to her Mitsubishi SVU. "Brielle, you coming?"

"Nah," She shook her head. "Got a bunch of cars that need working on, trying to clear the lot for Bobby's party tonight."

Clay shrugged, as if to say 'you're invited, but you're loss...' Tig simply gave an open palm as a guesture of goodbye, as did Jax and Chibs. With a sneaky, malicious grin, Juice approached her. Brielle narrowed her eyes behind her sunglasses, knowing he couldn't see her curiousity. He glanced for a second over at the others, and once he was pleased that none of them were looking, he put his lips onto Brielle's. Behind the dark shades, her eyes widened. As he pulled awar, the wide, toothy grin that had become a favorite of hers spread on his face. Brielle's mouth was parted slighty, mostly in shock of what had just happened.

"Really? Right in front of Tig and the others?" She hissed, barely able to hear herself.

Juice simply shrugged, still smiling. "See you at the shop."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12 later tonight. I SWEARS IT! In the meantime, please review. They really do mean a lot to us authors. Disclaimer: I do not own anything Kurt Sutter, FX, or SoA related. The Clark family is mine.<strong>


	12. Somethings Never Change

**Here ya go, chapter 12! Phew. It was a bit of work and a lot of hair pulling. Nevertheless, thank you, jennifer11 for the continuous support. And everyone else who reads and reviews, a HUGE thanks to you guys! Please remember that my poll is still up and if you haven't voted, please do so? Thanks again! Enjoy.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve<strong>

The sun had set hours ago and most of Charming had gone to bed along with the sun. The exception to this was at the Teller Morrow compound. A large barbeque was lit, grilling the flesh of steer, fowl, and vegetables on kebobs for the hangarounds, and Half Sack, who had bitched about there never being a vegetarian option. The streetlight quality lights that lit the compound showed over fifty people, eagerly waiting the arrival of Bobby Elvis. All of the guests were adults, not one child under twenty one was in sight.

Brielle found that as the night progressed, Juice barely left her side and she hardly left his. Unlike his very risky display of affection earlier at the warehouse, Juice and Brielle kept their appearance extremely kosher; nothing but friends. Despite how much fun she was having hanging out with Juice, her heart sunk everytime she looked over at Tig. The Sergeant at Arms hadn't left Clay's presence since he and Brielle had arrived three hours ago. Everytime she had tried to get Tig involved in a conversation or offered him something to eat, he shrugged and continued his silent conversation with Clay.

"You look great!" Brielle heard for probably the thousandth time that night from someone her father had known or someone she had unknowingly graduated high school with. She had picked a dress with the top half like a black tank. The pink high waisted elastic band ended the black tank and began the skirt of the dress which had three vertical striped colors, pink, crimson, and sapphire blue. On her feet were her best pair of black kidskin heels. Thanking the nameless woman with black and fuschia hair, she took the bottle of beer Juice had returned with.

"You don't even know her, do you?" He asked, smiling like always.

"Nope. All I know is she's a hangaround and hardly ever leaves." Brielle shrugged, taking a drink from the hop and yeast mixture. Absently, she clinked the gold ring she had slipped onto her thumb before Tig had literally pushed her out the door. The ring was similar to the Reaper ring most of the Sons wore. But the one she wore had once belonged to her father.

On the inside of the ring, five words were inscribed; _Zane, Brielle, Lilian. Forever Young. _Her father had always loved the song Forever Young by Bob Dylan; she remembered finding him in his living room, the night Lily had died, drunk, listening to the song on repeat. Clearing her mind, she dove back into the conversation she, Juice, and a few others were having. Around 11, the patrol car holding Bobby finally showed up.

The compound rocked with noise as Bobby stepped out of the backseat. He was handed his cut and once he put it on, the Sons pulled him into the party. The arrival of Bobby had gotten Brielle lost in the mass amount of people and she was now standing alone. Juice and Tig were both in the crowd that were greeting Bobby. She would have been in that same cowd, but she felt out of place amongst the leather clad bikers. With a sigh, she sat on a picnic table that had been placed near the entrance and against the wall of the clubhouse.

Seconds after the maroon Ford Crown Vic squad car left the lot, a silver Mercedes-Benz rolled into the compound. From the car, five men stepped out. One wore an expensive looking suit, complete with an expensive looking tie and shoes. His hair was a mixture of salt and pepper. The rest wore scruffy wife beaters or buttoned up shirts. All of the scruffy ones sported some kind of Swastika or Aryan ink. One of the rougher looking men had silver hair as well, but the rest had little or no hair to display their scalp tattoos. From the picnic table, Brielle watched, crossing her legs and drinking her beer.

The man in the fancy suit held what looked like a box of cigars as some kind of offering to Clay. Brielle watched Clay deny the peace offering, and by reading his lips she caught that he was asking what the business man wanted. The other man said something, but they were too far away and speaking too quietly for her to hear. Obviously it was something that amused Clay and the others who had gathered around their president. No sooner had the club shared a laugh than Tig had his nine millimeter handgun out, finger on the trigger and pointing dangerously at the game.

Brielle sat up, wondering if she needed to go over there and play referee. The professional salt and pepper haired man placed the box of cigars on the concrete infront of Clay and then headed back to the car. His groupies followed, one of them eyeing Brielle as he did so. She narrowed her eyes as the other silver haired man kept visually groping her. Brielle was repulsed when she saw the upside down Peace sign tattooed on his throat.

"You should take a picture," She said cooly. "They last longer."

A slim smile grew on his face. "I appologise ma'am, but I can't help but think a pretty woman like you shouldn't be running around with the likes of the Sons. Name's AJ Weston."

The man held out a hand, attached to a tattooed arm. Even on his arms were Semite and colored hate tattoos. She wrinkled her nose; no way in Hell was she touching something that had anything to do with this AJ Weston. It was clear that he was showing off his ink as the Sons watched the exchange of 'pleasantries' between the two from afar. With a sarcastic smile, she pushed herself off the picnic bench and lifted the left side of her dress to show the Reaper tattoo she had on the side of her left thigh.

"Loyal to the Sons is what I am," She could feel the broad smiles and chuckles leaving the Sons who stood probably fifty feet to her left. Before she spoke again, she put down the part of the dress she had lifted up and smoothed it with her hands. "Now, I'm assuming Clay's asked you to leave. You should probably do so."

Weston sneered before getting in the driver's side of the Benz. "I like blonde women with blue eyes, anyway."

"Oh, how original!" She jeered, grabbing her beer and returning to the crowd of men. Bobby pulled her into a friendly headlock, messing with her hair with a closed fist rubbing against her scalp. Once he released her, he noted how he had missed her humor while he had been inside. She thanked him and then went back to the group she had been conversating with, Juice, Half Sack, a man who worked at the shop, and some other women whose names she couldn't remember.

Brielle had been keeping track of time, and the amount of alcohol she had consumed, rather poorly. Not like she was fall down piss drunk, but even she thought maybe she had a few too many. She felt bubbly and everything was funnier now. She was thankful, and slightly embarrassed, when Juice handed her some left over barbequed pork chops on a paper plate. Food in the stomach often helped calm the sillies. However, she couldn't believe she was at the point where she needed to digest something. It had been years since she had this much to drink.

She was sitting on one of the two couches that were located inside of the clubhouse. Next to her sat Juice, trying to prove that the Oakland Raiders were a better team than the Dallas Cowboys. The two had decided that a game of rock paper scissors would decide who the better football team was. Brielle had one the third game out of five, thus declaring the Dallas Cowboys America's true team.

"Ha!" She cheered, raising her hands in the air. "I win! Cowboys are better."

"As. If." Juice rolled his eyes.

"I just won rock paper scissors!"

"And rock paper scissors is the ultimate deciding factor for everything?"

"If it's not it should be."

"Hey, you ready to go?" Tig arrived just before Juice was about to speak. The two sitting on the couch looked up at Tig who stood, thumbs hooked in his belt loops.

Brielle stuck out her bottom lip. "No, I thought you'd maybe like to stay a bit longer." In truth, she was having more fun with Juice than she would if she had followed Tig around the whole time.

"Thought you'd want to leave." Tig frowned.

"Well, that's what you get for thinking, isn't it?" She snapped. She was tired of his hovering and wanted him to go back to whatever he had been doing previously. He had been ignoring her for the whole night, why was it now he wanted to leave? Tig narrowed those cold, blue eyes of his and then stormed off.

"Was that, um, smart to do?" Juice asked, pointing at the now angry Tig.

She shrugged. "Probably not. I couldn't care less right now, though."

By the time the clock struck three, Brielle decided it was time for her to leave. She gave Juice a hug before getting off the couch to look for Tig. The last she had seen him, he had headed towards the apartment in the back. That was where she decided to look first and immediately she regretted it. As the door swung open, she saw the bare back and the curly haired head of her long term boyfriend attached to the back of a hangaround.

For years Tig had been doing this as a sort of revenge. She mouthed off and he would find someone who was willing to have mindless and annonymous sex with him. This definitely wasn't the first time it happened, but it was the first she had walked in on it. Several things ran through her mind. One was to push him off and then storm out and lock him out of the house. Another was to push him off and slap the girl. However, she picked her third option.

Quietly, she shut the door and headed towards the common area of the clubhouse. Her heels reverberated off the floors as she took long strides to get back to where everyone else was. At the couch where she had been sitting, Juice already had his lips attached to some hangaround. Despite how angry she was, she had to admit, if she had only left less than two minutes ago, he had quiet a charm to get a girl to be kissing him already. She felt a little bad that she was seperating them, but she was not about to walk home alone.

"Juice," She tapped his shoulder, trying to keep the tears from spilling over her bottom eyelids. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need a ride home."

He pushed away from the hangaround, who made a very loud noise of anguish, and stood. "Everything okay?"

"No, I need to go home. Please, you can come back if you like but I cannot stay here."

* * *

><p><strong>Ugh, I know. Kind of a crappy ending, but it needed one. Chapter 13 will be up soon :3 By the way, I'm possibly moving to the Seattle area to start school up there and I may miss a few updates. Hopefully not! Thanks for your patience on chapter 12. Here's a gift for waiting (v) (;,,;) (v) -Zoidberg from Futurama. Disclaimer: I do not own anything Kurt Sutter, FX, or SoA related. The Clark Family is mine, however.<strong>


	13. Never Say Never

**Ah, another Tuesday, another episode of my favorite television show that hasn't been canceled. Thanks for waiting so patiently for my updates. Not sure if I'll be able to update on time next week due to my hopeful visions of school and getting a job. Thanks to jennifer11; YOU ROCK! Disclaimer: I do not own anything SoA/Kurt Sutter/FX related. Clark Family is mine.**

* * *

><p>For the first time in a while, it wasn't the sun that woke Brielle up. The annoyingly loud alarm clock that sat on Tig's nightstand was screaming in her ear. Not bothering to look at the clock, she slammed her open hand down on the snooze button, shutting the bothersome appliance up. Next to Brielle laid Juice, hugging one of the pillows that had been on the side he slept on. The alarm clock had woken him as well, but he chose to ignore it and go back to sleep.<p>

He hadn't been surprised when he saw the decor of the bedroom. Juice couldn't help but roll his eyes at how very "Tig" this room was. His name was written everywhere in the selection of decorations. Darkly colored sheets on the bed, an ivory colored carpet that looked softer than velvet, two darkly stained wood bedside tables on both sides of the bed, the walls were painted an ivory color that matched the carpet. The closet doors infront of the bed were made out of two tall sheets of mirrored glass. There was even door beads hanging in the doorjamb of the bathroom.

Rolling onto his back, Juice smiled happily as several of his vertebrae popped. From the corner of his eye, Juice saw Brielle roll onto her back also as she fell back to sleep. The comforter barely covered her breasts. Which Juice noticed was barely covered by her fancy bra and the comforter. He froze, midexhale, as he noticed that he too was barely clothed; his boxers sat firmly on his hips. Finishing his exhale sharply, he used both hands to rub his eyes and then sat up. Taking a look around the room he found both of their clothes on the floor.

Juice gently shook Brielle which earned him a grunt before she opened her eyes. "What?" She asked.

"Did we, um, last night," Juice struggled to find the right words. "Did we have sex?"

"No," She laughed, rolling on her side to face him. Which just ended up as her looking at the side of his torso. "Juice, it was almost four in the morning when we got home. You pretty much crashed the second I told you, you can sleep on my side."

Juice nodded and laid back down, the cool pillow chilled the bare sides of his scalp. Next to him, Brielle had shut her eyes again, preparing to go back to sleep. It was six in the morning and they had only been asleep for two hours. With a small sigh, Juice decided he should try to get some sleep as well. He smiled again when she put her face to his side and an arm around his belly.

_This isn't happening,_ he thought as he reinforced her position with his arm under her head. _It's all going way too fast._ She hadn't even officially told Tig that she was done and he was already spending the night. How was he even going to explain this to the guys when they teased him about leaving so soon? For now, he didn't care. Her skin was so soft as was her hair, her breath landing softly on his pec. Juice wasn't about to ruin this be pushing her away. After all, this is what he had wanted for almost a month now. Well, one of the things he had wanted.

"Ah, shit," Brielle hissed, sitting up and getting out of bed.

"Wha-what?"

"I've got to get to work. But if you like, you can sleep until your normal time to get up."

She leaned over, her auburn hair fell over the right side of her head, a pleasant smile on her face. Holding her hair back from falling in Juice's face, she put her lips onto his. Juice wasn't sure how to react. He was beginning to like her, as more than just a friend, but she was Tig's old lady. Well, as far as Tig knew she was. Although he knew how angry Tig would be to walk in on this, Juice kissed back, knotting his fingers in her hair. She pulled away, that damn smile still on her face.

* * *

><p>Brielle was bent over the motor of a 1982 Ford F-150 motor that had been pulled from where it had been bolted in for years. One of the mechanics had needed to pull it from the engine cavity in order to work on it and Brielle was making sure he did his job properly before allowing it to be returned. Once she gave the motor her approval, she picked up her clipboard, signed off on some papers, and went to the office. As she set the clipboard onto the desk Gemma usually sat at, she thought it was odd that the queen hadn't at least called to say she wouldn't be there. It was almost 10:30 and there was still no sign of Gemma. She hadn't been at the party, so the excuse of a hangover was most likely bullshit.<p>

Going to one of the filing cabinets, she pulled a list of the shops employees from a folder. Taking the work requests that had been locked in the desk, she returned to the shop, sitting at the long counter in the back of the shop. In front of her was the schedule clipboard. With her elbow on the counter and her head propped up on her fist, she began to fill the schedule boxes. One request was for extra hours; a grandchild was soon expected and he wished to help with any expense as much as possible. The other two requests were for time off. One of them had been filed by Tig.

While she filled out the schedule, carefully coordinating times and shifts, she left Tig's week open. He had asked for Friday, the shop's busiest day, off and she was sorely tempted to ignore his plea. They hadn't even been able to talk that whole morning. Brielle had ignored the clubhouse as if it was asking for spare change on the sidewalk and Tig hadn't said anything to her when he and Clay had left to take care of some business. The only people who had greeted her were the men already working when she got there and Juice once he finally arrived. She doubted Tig had even noticed she was there. Biting her lip, she filled in his week but wrote a note on the box that was ment for Friday. _Talk to me before Friday, B.C._

After signing off on the schedule, she hung it on the wall where it always went. Gathering the loose papers, Brielle went to the office again. Once there, she shredded the work requests and returned the employee's list to it's proper folder. Just as she shut the cabinet drawer, her phone rang. The caller I.D. said, in bold letters, that Tara Knowles was calling. Brielle rolled her eyes. She seriously didn't feel like having a heated conversation this early. _What could she possibly want?_

"What?" Brielle asked, putting the phone to her ear.

"Brielle, it's Tara," The doctor spoke softly, somewhat surprised the other woman had kind of snapped at her. Again, Brielle rolled her eyes. "Um, Gemma's at the hospital."

The mechanic-ess stood up straight upon hearing this news. "Christ, what happened?"

"You may want to come to St. Thomas. I can't tell you over the phone. It's extremely urgent."

Brielle snapped the phone shut and looked out of the office into the shop. There wasn't a whole lot of people she could get to watch the shop at the moment. Most of the Sons were trying to wake Bobby while Clay, Tig, and Jax were busy elsewhere. Her eyes fell onto Mike, one of the most dependable and experianced mechanics. After asking him to stay in charge for and hour or two, she strode to her car in preperation to go to St. Thomas.

* * *

><p>"You did what?" Gemma snapped at her oldest sons girlfriend. After specifically asking Tara and Unser not to tell anyone, Tara turns and blabbs to Brielle. Not that Gemma didn't love the middle Clark child like her own, it was just another person who would look at her differently. Honestly, Gemma thought she would be shunned, that somehow, they'd see it as her fault. She knew her boys well enough to know that if they found out, they'd be so consumed by anger, they'd get sloppy and the ATF would really be all over them. "Whatever, just let her in."<p>

Guiltily, Tara went to the door, ushering Brielle into the room. Her eyebrows knitted as she saw Gemma. Feeling unneeded, Tara left the room to sit in the uncomfortable chair just outside the room. Brielle couldn't believe the violence Gemma had been subjected to. Her lip had been busted and a cut was oozing a little bit under her left eye. It was visibly obvious she had a bruised, maybe cracked rib or two as she tried to breath as little as possible. Something told Brielle that Gemma wasn't ready for an embrace, or to be touched at all for that matter. She raised the seat of the rolly chair so she wouldn't be looking up the hospital gown of her second mother.

"Oh, Gem," She frowned. "How're you feeling?"

Gemma snorted and then quickly held her ribs tightly. "Like I was raped. Brielle, you cannot tell anyone. If the boys found out now-"

"They would get sloppy with their revenge, Stahl would be on them like white on rice and we'll all be SAMCRO-less," Brielle smiled. "I know what you're thinkin', Gem. Your secret's safe."

Brielle put a gentle hand on Gemma's shoulder and left the room. She couldn't help but sneer as she caught a glimpse of Tara stand from the chair and return to the room. Brielle had heard Gemma shouting at Tara before she went into the room. Honestly, if Tara couldn't keep Gemma's secret, and Gemma didn't have many detrimental secrets like this, could she keep any secret? Brielle was beginning to distrust her again, just as she had eleven years ago.

Retrieving her cell phone from the depths of her purse, Brielle read through three text messages she had recieved. They must have been from one original source, they had the same wording about Gemma being in the hospital. Her sneer turned into a smirk; despite how active the Sons could be, they were quite lazy when it came with texting. Snapping her phone shut, she strode to the waiting room.

When she got to the waiting room, she reeled as if hitting an invisible wall. Of course, Tig stood at the doorjamb of the waiting room while Clay and Jax sat next to each other. Shooting Tig a glare, she sat next to Clay. Brielle was tempted to rub her eyes, especially since she had only had about three hours of sleep, but kept herself from doing so due to her make up.

"Did you get to see Gemma?" Clay asked, stretching his arms aross the backs of the chairs.

"No," Brielle shook her head trying to hide her lie. "The nurse wouldn't give me her room number because I'm not biologically related."

Clay scoffed and leaned his head back. The four in the waiting room fell silent, waiting for something to happen. Brielle picked at her fingernails, jiggling her right leg in impatience. Jax was slowly replying to a text someone had sent him. Tig remained leaning against the doorjamb, watching Brielle as she inspected her nails.

The whole morning she had ignored him. Even now, he could tell by the way she sat that she didn't want to be in the same room as he was. And that glare she had given him; it was a bone chilling look. Tig wondered if there was something going on between her and Juice. After all, they had spent a lot of time together at Bobby's party. One of the croweaters had informed him that the two left together, also. Tig shook his head to clear his thoughts. No, he had been spending a lot of energy making sure everyone knew that Brielle was his old lady again. Juice didn't seem like an old lady thief to Tig.

Just as Tig was going to say something, there was a commotion down the hall. Bobby had been laid on a stretcher and the rest of the guys pushed him down the hallway. Chibs, with his Scottish brogue, called for everyone to move aside for the freight train that was speeding down the hallway. They stopped at the doorframe, catching the other's attention.

"How's the homecoming queen?" Tig asked, slightly humored that Boby had made himself so sick.

"A little green, but he'll be okay." Juice answered.

"How's Gemma?" Bobby groaned, lifting his head up from the stretcher pad. A soft giggle left Brielle.

"Better than you," Clay replied, putting a smile on everyone's faces.

Tig, still standing at the doorway, whistled softly hoping to catch Brielle's attention. With a steely look in her eye, she looked up at him and angrily mouthed 'what?'. Using his forefinger, he silently asked her to follow him into the hallway, away from the others. Annoyed, Brielle stood from her chair and followed, feeling like a teen who was being pestered by the most bothersome kid in school.

Once they were far enough away from the others, Tig turned and face Brielle. Her arms were crossed and Tig felt like he had been thrown into the fires of Hell. She looked furious and he couldn't tell why. He didn't remember doing anything that would have made her angry. At least, he didn't think she had found out about anything that would make her angry.

"What?" She snapped, glaring at him with those harsh hazel eyes.

Tig was caught off guard. "Uh, did you get my request for Friday off?"

"Really? You dragged me away from everyone to talk about a day off. I'm going back," Brielle turned on her heel to return to the waiting room and was yanked back by Tig's hand holding tight on her wrist.

"You're angry. Why are you angry?"

"Found you balls deep in a croweater last night when I wanted to go home," She growled. Tig squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't believe that she had walked in on that; he didn't even remember hearing the door open or close. No wonder she had left with Juice. She hadn't wanted to leave with him. "Alex, I'm done. I can't keep doing this."

For the first time in years, Tig felt his heart sink. He knew his track record was bad, but he had made it even worse by fooling around with that croweater last night. Brielle had done so much for him and he hadn't done much for her. "Before you make that decision, take Friday off with me. We'll have lunch. And talk. I know you love talking."

"Tig, no. I'm not falling for that again. What's going to happen is that I'm going to take that day off, and you're going to completely forget about it."

"Brie. I'm serious."

Moments passed. Brielle stared into his blue eyes, her lips pursed and arms crossed. Tig was getting impatient. He couldn't let her go. If he saw her with another man, God forbid another Son, he would die. Behind those hazel eyes, little did Tig know she was close to spilling tears down the front of her black crew neck tshirt. She hated that now, all of the sudden, he was wanting to save his ass when before he hadn't really cared.

"Alright. But if you forget or blow me off, I swear to God, you will **not** see the light of day."


	14. An Old Lady's Old Man

**This chapter's mainly a filler chapter, explaining a few things here and there. I finally decided that I would go with the canon story as much as possible. Which is why I'm putting Tig's daughter's into the mix. I watched 'With an X,' and I want to have that in my story. Thanks for being so patient with waiting for my update even though I'm late :c You know, I keep saying thank you to jennifer11 for all her help, but I want to say thank you to everyone else who has been reviewing, favoriting, and subscribing. You guys rule! :D**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen<strong>

Fingers typed furiously on the keyboard of a Dell Latitude laptop which sat on a darkly stained bartop. The fingers belonged to Juice, who was currently trying to gain information on the members of L.O.A.N. Ethan Zobelle and AJ Weston had visited the compound during Bobby's welcome home party and Clay had given him the taks of finding out who they were. First, he started by simply typing their names in to Google. The only thing that came up was Zobelle's popular chain of cigar shops. There wasn't much about Weston. Neither had a Facebook, Myspace, Tumblr, nothing. Once Juice typed L.O.A.N. into the search engine, there was a bit more information. He wasn't surprised to find that they had a website and Zobelle was the head of the organization. There were multiple pictures on L.O.A.N.'s website documenting that Weston was Zobelle's lapdog.

Using his further knowledge of computers, Juice began to delve deeper into the world of L.O.A.N. He was utterly disgusted. The League of American Nationalist's webpage claimed that they were a group of business men, wanting to reclaim the glory of American business and stop the recession. Of course, it was all bullshit. Juice saw no black, brown, or yellow business men in their pictures. They were racists and they disgusted Juice. Of course, being of color, Juice felt like he was a target of L.O.A.N.. The sound of heels distracted Juice from his internal tirade. Glancing to his left, he saw Brielle walking into the clubhouse, her legitimate cell phone to her ear. A slightly worried look was on her face. Her hazel eyes set sight on Juice and went to the bar to sit next to him.

"I know, Zane, but Clay just let you back into the club. Do you really think he'd be willing to let you leave again?" She spoke, holding her head up with a fist propped on the counter. Juice could hear the voice pf her brother come from the otherside, but he couldn't hear what exactly he was saying. But he had caught what Brielle said. Leave? Zane had been voted back in when Brielle had moved back to Charming months ago. But it had cost him his marriage and his kids. From what Juice understood, Kelli had left Charming and moved in with her parents in Ashland, Oregon. "Has Clay said anything in any chapel meetings lately about Zane?"

Juice hadn't been paying attention when Brielle had gotten off the phone with her brother. "Oh, um, you've been in all of the meetings recently. Why?"

Brielle shook her head. "Nevermind. Are you busy right now?"

"No," Juice, narrowed his eyes, curious as to why she had been asking so many questions.

"Good," Brielle sighed, rubbing her face with one hand. Juice wondered what she was going to say next. "Zane wants out."

"Really? Did he say why?"

"The whole Donna-Opie thing. It made him realize that Kelli was the woman he wants to be with for the rest of his life and he's wanting to mend that realtionship by getting out of the club and getting the family back." She explained before looking at the time on her cell phone. "Tig is, by the way, late. Of course."

Juice felt his heart fall to the floor at the mention of the other biker's name. Not because he disliked Tig, but because he knew she was giving him a chance he didn't deserve. He wondered; when was he going to get the chance he deserved? Since she had been handing out chances from the first time Tig screwed up, Juice thought maybe she was out. It seemed unfair to him.

The sound of heavy footsteps interrupted Juice as he opened his mouth to speak. Juice turned in the bar stool to see Tig now standing at the end of the bar. An apologetic look sat on his face. Brielle nodded, a silent guesture that she would meet him outside soon. Tig soon left the clubhouse and Juice looked back at Brielle. He was about to ask how she could stand him when she pressed her lips onto his. When she pulled away, he gazed up at her with wide eyes. She gave him a wink before leaving for lunch with Tig.

* * *

><p>"Is there something going on between you and Juice?"<p>

Tig had taken Brielle to a local diner, something that annoyed Brielle. Wasn't he fighting to get her back? If so, he should have taken her somewhere nice. Where it didn't smell like cold coffee and old people. Brielle lounged in the seat, her dirtywork shoes on the vinyl cushion. Her elbow sat on the table, her fist propped her head up. With angry hazel eyes, she looked from her sweating Dr. Pepper to Tig.

"What does it matter?" She asked icily.

Tig shook his head. "Nevermind. Listen, I know I've kept somethings from you-"

"It's not that you keep things from my Alex," Brielle interrupted. "It's that you go around my back and do stupid shit."

"No," Tig shook his head again. "I have been keeping something from you, and it's been way too long that this hasn't been told to you. This happened all before we met,"

"Alex," Brielle spoke softly. She was beginning to fell uncomfortable. What on earth could he be admitting too? Did he have some love child before they met and he didn't tell her? She threw that idea away in the trash basket of her mind. If he had a love child, Gemma would know. Her and Tig were unorthodoxly close; they told each other everything. But Gemma had never told her about any baby. Tig ignored Brielle.

"I was shortly married. Her name was-er, is Coleen. When I met you, the divorce was going through," Tig paused, playing with a few packets of sugar that sat in the little white dish on the table. He could feel the anger radiating off of Brielle. He knew she shouldn't have hidden this for so long. It was getting harder and harder for him to tell the truth. "But by the time I enlisted for the Marines, Coleen and I were still undivorced and we decided to put it on hold until I got out because the military offers benefits for those who are married. And they were one of the few branches of the military that allowed you to enlist if you had a dependent."

Brielle froze. Now that she thought about it, Tig had been awfully secretive about going to his house or his personal life. That part made sense. But he had said "dependent," as in child. She waited for him to say more, but he was obviously stuck in his confession.

"Coleen and I had two daughters together. Dawn and Fawn. I got to see them at least once or twice a year after I got out of the Marines and we divorced."

She felt like she had been hit in the gut and the air she breathed had been forcibly taken from her lungs. Brielle had been expecting one kid, not two. The noise that surrounded her turned into a dull buzz and then eventually faded into nothingness. Her sight blurred with the arrival of tears. His confession explained everything. His apprehensions for marriage and kids all made sense now.

Her thighs knocked against the edge of the table, causing the drinks to stir in their vessels. Hot tears fell down her cheeks, her stomach felt like it was doing sommersaults. Brielle felt the sudden and very instinctive urge to flee. She could hear Tig distantly call her name as she left the booth and headed to the front door; her world felt as if it was in slow motion until she left the diner. Retrieving her cell phone from her back pocket, she quickly typed out a message and sent it.

* * *

><p>Tig felt like shit as he shuffled into the clubhouse. Since Brielle had left the diner, he had been blowing up her phone, losing the battery power of his as he did so. He had two bars left on the miniature battery display on the phone. Tig sighed, he shouldn't have been so frivolous with how many calls he made and texts he sent. The only response he had gotten from her was a text message. She had told him to stop calling and a strong suggestion that he avoid her house. Brielle had added that all of his things that had been at her house were now packed in boxes, sitting at his own home.<p>

He didn't feel like going to his own house. The home he and Brielle had shared since she returned and before she left years ago, that was his home. He didn't want to go anywhere else. Everytime he went to the house he owned, it felt cold and lonely. It was more like a hotel than a home. From the bar, Half Sack offered Tig a beer, which he ignored as he walked to the dorms in the back of the clubhouse. Picking one he knew was empty, the threw the door open and then threw it shut. The mattress recieved the same amount of abuse as the door had when Tig fell hard onto it.

Thoughts about what Brielle was doing, if she was out somewhere or if she was with someone clouded his mind. He wondered if maybe he had told her earlier about Coleen and his girls, if she would still be his. Maybe if he had kept his dick out of everything that moved as well, she'd still be his. All the work he had done, making sure everyone knew that she was his...for nothing. He cursed himself. With his heavily ringed fingers, he dug his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. Staring back at him, on his front screen, was a picture of her. He had taken the picture when the carnival had been in town. The sun had been shining at just the right angle, it made her hair appear to be red and gave her golden skin an extra bronzing. Her hair had been blown over her shoulder by the wind, a broad smile sat on her face, her hazel eyes gleamed in the setting sun. Brielle hadn't been aware he had taken the picture or set it as his wallpaper. Tig couldn't bare to delete it. Not yet, at least.

* * *

><p>Auburn hair fanned out on creme colored sheets that covered the mattress. Blankets were tangled in the feet of Brielle and Juice, who lay naked, held close to the other. There was a pounding in Brielle's head, an ache that hadn't yet gone away from the crying she had done earlier that day. However, it was subsiding now that she was in the dark, quiet room. It was the first time she had enjoyed sex while having such an awful headache.<p>

Juice had noticed Brielle seemed to be slightly in pain. He wondered what it was, she had been crying all day since she got back from the diner. They had gone to the wrap up party for Luanne's most recent movie, but left right after Tig showed up. Juice hadn't had a problem with leaving early. The booze sucked and the hostesses weren't very polite. Still, he didn't care; he had just wanted to be with Brielle. And he had gotten what he had been wanting for a while. If it had been a competition between Tim and himself, he would have won. It felt nice to get what he really wanted instead of settling for a croweater.

With his forefinger, Juice brushed a lock of hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear. The light brushing of his finger against his cheek made her smile, in turn putting a smile on his face as well. She nuzzled her face into his side, ticking his ribs.

"So," Juice spoke softly. "What does this mean now?"

"What do you mean?" Brielle replied, lightly kissing Juice's ribs where she had tickled him.

"Does this mean you're my old lady now?"

"No," Her reply surprised him, but what she said next pleasantly tickled his funny bone. "You're my old man, now."

* * *

><p><strong>I do not own anything SoAFX/or Kurt Sutter related. The Clark Family is mine. Hopefully chapter 15 will be on time c: Once again, thank you!**


	15. The Choice

**Sorry this took so long to update :[ hopefully I'll get back on track with the next chapters. However, expect delays because I finally got a job! YAY :D OMG anyone see Tuesday's SoA? Ugh, I must know what happens next. DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything SoA/KurtSutter/FX related. Clark Family is mine.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen<strong>

Several members of SAMCRO stood by their bikes in the lot of Teller-Morrow and the clubhouse. Jax had just pulled into the lot, his bike next to Opie's who sat smoking a cigarette on his bike. Tig stood next to his bike, Chibs sat on his, Juice sat on his bike as well. Brielle had sat herself down on the bitch seat of Juice's bike. There was enough people for there to be two people to a quiet conversation. Clay was elsewhere, everyone was waiting for him to show up. Half Sack had arrived from the clubhouse, hands in his pockets, and stood next to Brielle and Juice.

There were three loud pops, sounding a little bit like gunshots, coming from the depth of TM. Brielle sat up from leaning on Juice's shoulder, and looked over just in time to see Bobby rolling out on a Harley-Davidson Fat Boy which was backfiring. Laughs and chuckles came from everyone who stood at the bikes.

"Chitty chitty bang bang," Chibs called to Bobby as he shut off the bike and got off. Brielle laughed, taking in the sight of Bobby wearing black leather chaps over his thick blue jeans.

"Yeah, alright," Tig jeered. "It's an old fat boy on an old Fat Boy."

Jax walked to the front of his bike and lit a cigarette. "Thought you put that beast to sleep." He spoke to Bobby.

"This bad boy has barely even reached it's prime," The Elvis impersonator bragged, motioning to the bike with his thumb.

"Barely looks like it can reach the end of the lot." Opie noted, taking a drag from his cancer stick. Everyone, with the exception of Bobby, laughed.

"Don't tell me you're taking that thing to Oregon." Brielle called.

"Best bike for a long ride," He gloated again and then guestured to everyone at the lot with a wide arc of his arm. "I'll put it up against any of you pretty Dina's."

More laughs left the others. Half Sack asked Juice what a Dina was. Both Brielle and Juice shrugged, still watching what was going one. Jax had noticed Bobby's chaps and had nearly sucked his cigarette into his mouth whole.

"You going to the gay cowboy rodeo on the way?"

Bobby shrugged. "Gotta protect the man hide."

"Get in line, Brokeback." Tig practically ordered, laughing while he did so.

Bobby walked back to his bike, practically defeated. Swinging a leg over the vehicle, Bobby restarted the bike which spat out a noxious plume of dirty exhaust. Everyone complained, waving a hand in front of their faces to keep themselves from breathing the foulness. Half Sack left Juice and Brielle, standing infront of Chibs' bike as he watched Bobby back into his spot next to Jax.

"Aw goddamn, man," He complained. "I gotta ride behind that thing?"

"Shut up," Chibs ordered. "You should be used to being sprayed in the face, Prospect."

"Suck my nut." Half Sack snapped.

"I like a full scrote when I suck someone," Chibs rebuttled.

Half Sack's mouth made an "o" shape and he nodded a bit. "Is that right? Okay, well, pretty soon you can have that."

"What, are you going to spontaneously sprout a nut?" Tig asked

"No," Half Sack uttered meekly.

"What then?" Tig asked, giggling while he did so.

"I'm getting a neutical."

"Getting a what?" Jax asked, almost spitting out his cigarette this time when he heard the mentioning of an implant.

"A fake ball. A neutical. It's an implant," The prospect explained. Gimme a sense of symmetry and balance. I'm just waiting for the V.A. insurance to go through."

Brielle had heard enough about testicles and fake balls. She stood from the back of Juice's bike and began to walk to the clubhouse. There was a toilet in there and she needed to go. Juice playfully pinched her side as she walked past him, earning a slap to the side of his bare scalp. He laughed a little, letting her take her leave.

Humming to herself, Brielle made her way through the door, nodding hello to a few of the hangarounds who had greeted her. She knew they were only kissing ass, trying to start prospecting. Shutting the door behind her, Brielle pulled her jeans and panties to her knees and sat on the toilet. Tapping her foot on the floor, while waiting for her bodily functions to finish, Brielle inspected her fingernails. After flushing the toilet, she went to the sink to wash her hands. With the paper towels that were provided her hands were soon dried.

Now whistling, she opened the door to see Tig standing right there, hand balled into a fist just about to knock. Brielle jumped, a small yelp left her.

"Jesus, Tig! Creeper much?" She sighed, trying to slow her heart rate.

"Sorry, everyone's ready to go, Clay asked me to get you." He spoke softly, scratching a spot just under his nose.

"Thanks," Brielle said, trying to get around the biker. Tig stood like a cement barrier on the freeway; unmoving and strong. "Um, what's with the not letting me past, thing?"

Tig shook his head and moved to the side. "Sorry."

* * *

><p>Several bikes and one black Corvette halted in front of an Army surplus store. Brielle exited her car, pulling the hood release first, to check her oil. While the guys went inside and took care of thier business, Brielle pulled the clean white towel from her back pocket of her jeans and retrieved the dipstick. After wiping it off once, she put it back, waited for ten or fifteen minutes, and took the dipstick out again. Deciding the oil level was fine, she slammed the hood, and took a seat on the polished black metal.<p>

From her back pocket, Brielle could hear the familiar beeping of her text message ringtone. The text was from Zane, simply stating he had talked to Kelli. And that she was going to think about reversing the divorce. Brielle sent a reply; she would have preferred to have at least talked to him on the phone rather than texting. Her brother's next reply made her frown. He was going to take Bailey, the German Shepard had had asked her to watch for a week months ago, back to live with him, Kelli, and their kids.

Brielle shut her phone, not feeling like her brother's last text even deserved a reply. As she did so, the Sons exited the shop. Each had two rolls of bedding in their arms which they strapped onto the back of their bikes. Clay made a circular motion in the air, his signal for everyone to get back on the highway. Leading the way, Brielle shifted gears smoothly, with the expertise of a NASCAR driver. Once they were back on the highway, Brielle slowed down enough to allow the Redwood Chapter to pass her so she could follow.

The iPod she had plugged into her stereo was playing songs she didn't like, didn't even know she had. Still watching the road, she picked up the device and blindly unlocked it, pressing the next button on the scroll wheel. In front of her she could hear Bobby's bike beginning to backfire again. Brielle put down her iPod and bit her lip, watching as Bobby's ancient bike lurched back and forth almost as if it wasn't sure it wanted to keep going. But when she witnessed Bobby's front tire clip the back of Tig's bike, causing him to take a sharp right turn and fall down a steep hill, she gasped.

Slamming on her brakes and pulling to the side of the road, Brielle shut off her car and jogged to where everyone was collected. Bobby ran his hands through his curly mop of hair, Juice put his hands on his hips, and Clay cursed the biker gods. Most everyone else sat on their bikes, not sure what to do. Instinct lead Brielle into sliding down the hill to safely reach Tig and make sure he was alright enough to be moved.

"Tig?" She asked, once she had made her self comfortable on the dried grass. He didn't answer at first; his eyes were closed. Brielle pressed her first two fingers against his jugular. Relief swept over her when she felt a strong heartbeat. She couldn't help but hang her head with some kind of joy when she felt her arm raising and falling as his diaphram pulled in and pushed out air. She decided it was time to ask his name again. "Alex, can you wake up for me?"

A thin smile appeared on his face. "Oh, you. I knew you'd always be the first one to help me. And don't worry; it's just my leg."

"Shut up," Brielle sighed, shaking her head and trying to avoid the fact she was smiling too. She took notice that the bike wasn't sitting on his leg but there was a pretty looking gash on it, which stained his jeans. "He can be moved, guys. Don't be afraid to get down here."

"You love me after all." Tig spoke lightly, just as Brielle got up to leave. Juice had been the one to help Brielle get over the top of the hill. Once she regained her footing, she wrapped her arms around Juice, biting her lip as hard as she could. If she was going to be seen crying, it would be because she made her lip bleed. Not because Tig had said something to her. She felt the light press of his lips on her temple as he led her back to the car.

Once Tig was taken to the hospital, Bobby, Happy, and Half Sack were left to watch Tig and make sure he was taken care of while everyone went to continue riding up to Oregon. Someone had called a tow truck and got Tig's bike moved to the hospital. From what Brielle could see, nothing had been damaged too badly. It was mostly cosmetic damage. Again, Brielle tailed the riders who hadn't stayed at the hospital.

Not long after they left the hospital, Brielle followed as they pulled into an abandoned gas station. Jax was on the phone and Juice came over to her side of the car. Brielle rolled down the window. Leaning against the door, he put his lips onto hers.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" She asked softly, barely seperating their lips.

Juice chuckled. "Who cares? You said I was yours right?"

"You're retarded." Brielle laughed, adding one last kiss before unbuckling her seat belt and getting out of the car. "Jax, what's going on?"

"Bobby just called. Said some bounty hunters took Tig for something. Half Sack's trailing them." He spat.

"Shit!" Clay hissed.

"I didn't know he had any outstanding warrents." Brielle frowned.

"Neither did any of us." Chibs shook his head.

"We have to go for him now. The bounty hunters are going to be gone in a few hours. I'm not sure if Half Sack is prepared to follow them that far." Jax not only spoke to his stepfather, but to the whole group.

"No," Clay disagreed. " We have to get these guns over the border into Oregon."

"You're just going to let Tig be taken in? What if it was me being taken away? Or do we need to take a vote?"

Clay paused for a moment before getting back his bike. Ignoring his son's question, he started uphis bike. "We go to Oregon!" The elderly biker attempted to rocket off, but his hands hadn't been in the right position to hold the gas and clutch down and he had hit a peticularly nasty bump. Redwood Original's president laid his bike down, cursing his senior moment

Rolling his eyes, Jax took a step forward towards the curb where his stepfather had sat down. Surprisingly, Opie stopped him, offering to take care of Clay for the moment. The group watched as Opie sat next to Clay, offered him a cigarette and began to work his magic. It wasn't long until Clay stood, and ordered Jax to get the guys at the hospital to meet at the empty lot next to the abandoned gas station. Brielle was a little surprised when Jax asked her to call Piney and get the flatbed to where they were.

Half Sack's pearly white bike roared into the empty lot, a few hours later, where everyone else stood, waiting for a decision. After shutting off the bike, he told the group that Tig had been taken to a nearby motel and they were patching him up before taking him in for the reward. Brielle shook her head; that was Tig, that sneaky, scheming bastard. He must have baited them into beating the crap out of him so they couldn't turn him in today.

When the flatbed, with Piney as the driver, Jax approached Brielle and Juice. They leaned against her car, pondering whose side to take. "I'm going to get Tig. Either of you in?"

"I'll go." Juice nodded, retrieving his pistol from his armpit holster. Brielle hesitated for a moment. Perhaps it was because Jax had asked her, a woman, to go on a dangerous mission. She still couldn't believe it when she leaned into her car and opened up the glove box on the passenger's side and retrived her fourty caliber Smith and Wesson pistol.

"Me too." Brielle confirmed her gun was loaded by pulling the slide back and catching the bullet that popped out. She hated seeing the broad smile on Jax's face while Juice frowned. Brielle shrugged and jumped up onto the back of the flat bed, Juice behind her.

Brielle squinted as the highway speed wind quickly dried out her eyes. Juice sat next to her, watching her facial expressions. She turned to him and smiled, placing a large kiss on his lips. Her smile was infectious, and he looked away, shaking his head. The truck slowed down as it got closer to the motel, eventually slowing to walking speed. Jax jumped off, looked through a couple windows until he found the right one and returned.

Piney manuvered the truck so the bed was facing the outside wall of the room Tig was being held in. "Hold on tight, kiddos!"

The flatbed plowed right through the brick and plaster, completely catching the hunters off guard. Happy cocked his sawed-off barrelled shot gun and pointed it at the hunters. Jax was the one who took Tig's KA-BAR, which sat on a dresser and cut the tape that was holding the sergeant at arms down. Juice and Chibs slid off the bed, assisting their biker brother onto the bed where Brielle dragged him to the front. Once she was sure he was comfy, she pointed her pistol in the direction of the bounties and waited for the others to get back on. Jax jumped into the cab and with a jerk, Piney headed back for the empty lot.

"So," Tig called to Brielle over the loud winds. "What made you come in the rescue party for me?"

"I may be angry with you, Alex, but you're part of this club. And whether I like it or not, you're needed. I'm just doing my part." She shouted over the winds as well.

* * *

><p>It had been a while since Brielle had been to a Sons clubhouse that was out of state. She didn't could the one in Nevada; it was a fledgling chapter. A few members remembered her from before she left for LA, only two remembered her father. But the few who knew her were surprised to see that she was on the arm of another Son and not Tig. Although she had explained he had been hurt recently and they had been disagreeing on a lot, she didn't delve deeper into her problems with him.<p>

Most everyone was partying outside but there were a few people inside the clubhouse. Of course, all of the people inside were either having sex, starting sex, or finishing. Juice laid on one of the beds the SAMCOR President had offered to every SAMCRO member, Brielle next to him. Both their chests heaved as they tried to regain their breath. Breille ran a hand through her hair and couldn't stop the giggles that left her throat.

"What's so funny?" Juice asked hoarsely.

"Nothing," She said through giggles. "I feel about eight years younger. Like my history is repeating itself."

"How so?"

"Uh, I'm not going to go into details, but it involved Tig."

Juice couldn't stop the rolling of his eyes. Secretly, he hoped Brielle had seen it. He was so tired of her life revolving around Alexander 'Tig' Trager. She had structured her life around him for so long that now she was done, she couldn't help but keep doing so. Juice didn't care how long they had been together or seperated. And after today, her jumping on the flatbed and retrieving her pistol so quickly. He wasn't sure if her intentions were to save a SAMCRO member or the man she loved.

"Brie, I need to ask you for something."

Brielle looked over at him, the lights from the compound outside flowed through the window above the bed. "What's up?" She asked.

"I understand that you and Tig have a really long history, and although you two aren't currently together, you still have some kind of love for him, " Brielle opened her mouth to object. Juice placed his ringed pointer finger on her lips. "Please let me finish. I don't want to just be a phase you went through; I don't want to be a rebound. So, I need you to make a decision-"

"Juice-" Brielle's voice wavered, betraying her true emotions. She already knew what he was going to ask and tried to stop him. Again, he put his finger over her lips.

"Brie, I know this is unfair for me to ask for you to do this, but I can't be with you while you're bending over backwards for someone who's never going to properly appreciate you. You don't have to give me an answer now, but soon would be preferable. Brielle, it's either me or him."

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you guys liked it :] please review! And hopefully I'll get sixteen up fast. So sorry for the wait!<strong>


	16. Small Talk

**Okay. I lied. It took me forever to update. I'm so sorry! I've been so caught up with everything and now that I'm prospecting to move back to Texas, I don't expect to update any quicker. But I will definitely keep up with the story! I would love to be up to season four by this fall, when the next season comes out. But we'll see. So for now... enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen<strong>

"Brielle, it's either me or him."

Those six words hit Brielle like a ton of bricks. It wasn't that Juice had asked her to make a decision that made tears gather in her eyes. She understood why he wanted her to make a choice and he was right about everything. But it was the fact that he had laid this decision upon her and then held her close, in a loving embrace, and place a soft kiss on her forehead before falling asleep. Tears fell silently from her eyes, dripping off her nose and onto Juice's bare chest.

It was also that she couldn't make a decision. Now that she thought about it, going down that hill and jumping on the flatbed with a loaded gun may not have been smart in the field of their new relationship. However, no matter how involved she got with Juice, all she could think of was Tig. What would she be doing if it was him instead of Juice? Would she be happy? Pressing her face closer to Juice's side and holding him tighter, she struggled to keep her sobbing silent.

Juice pretended to be asleep. He wanted to know what Brielle would do after he asked her to make her choice. As she broke into tears, his heart broke into pieces. He hadn't ment to hurt her feelings, but was he not justified in asking for what he wanted? When her sobbing got a little louder and she hugged him tighter, Juice couldn't bear not being able to return her squeeze. He was supposed to be asleep after all.

A cold wetness fell onto Juice's pec. He wished he could watch the ceiling and wait for sleep to take him, but it was too late; he had decided to take sleep. Brielle pulled the comforter closer to them both as she sniffed, snuffled, and cried until she fell asleep. That was when Juice opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. There was something comforting about the vast emptiness of the ceiling that gave him comfort.

When he woke up, Brielle laid on her back, staring at the ceiling like he had last night. The comforter had been pulled up over her breasts, her hands sat on her belly. He put his hands behind his head, the cool Oregon morning air chilled him slightly. But he preferred it to sweating to death first thing in the morning. Brielle noticed Juice was awake and she tucked her arms under the blanket.

She couldn't help but want to avoid the conversation they had the night before. "Good morning," Brielle whispered, too timid to break the morning silence. There was a good chance they were the few who were awake.

"Morning," He purred, placing an arm underneath her head.

Brielle was confused. Hadn't he been angry with her last night? What had happened from then to now that made him better? Sitting up and holding the comforter to her body, she looked down at him. A curious look had been stricken upon her face. Of course, he had closed his eyes again and hadn't seen her look at him strangley.

Shaking her head, she swung her legs over the edge of the mattress. Putting her elbows on her knees, Brielle rubbed her eyes free of the krusty sleep and mascara from the day before. Through the closed door, she could smell coffee being made. Looking over her shoulder at Juice, Brielle stood and redressed. She shut the door softly, giving him one last look.

No sounds came from her VANS as she crossed the room, following her nose to the coffee. Jax stood there, pouring himself a cup. From his peripheral, he saw Brielle and held up the pot of the dark brew. She nodded her head head and went to the fridge to get the creamer. Jax watched as she poured a large amount of creamer into the coffee. Putting an arm around her, Jax lead Brielle outside where they wouldn't bother the sleeping, and hungover, bikers and croweaters.

"How did you sleep?" Jax asked after sitting in one of the metal chairs and lighting a cigarette.

Brielle scoffed. "Oh, after I stopped crying, like a baby," Jax tilted his head to the side, wondering what she meant. "Juice told me that I was still babying Alex, that I was "bending over backwards" for Tig. He told me it's either him or Tig."

"I can understand that," Jax breathed out cigarette smoke. Brielle narrowed her eyes. "Sorry to say it Brie, but Juice has a point."

Brielle sat back in her chair, feeling slightly defeated. She thought she had made painfully obvious that she was done with Tig. Guess not; she hadn't even fooled herself. The auto mechanic was silent as she sipped her coffee, the Oregon wind blowing through her hair. Silence settled over the childhood friends as a few cars passed the SAMCOR clubhouse.

"So what about you?" Brielle turned to one of her closest friends. "I know we don't talk much, but what's going on with you and Tara?"

Jax shook his head and exhaled cigarette smoke. "She's been trying to run away again. I think it's her getting cold feet about the club and becoming a mother to Abel."

"Honestly," Brielle couldn't help but roll her eyes. "You know any hang around would kill to be the step-mommy to Abel. But I can see why she'd be nervous. Obviously Donna's murder's gotten to everyone," She noticed Jax stiffen. Brielle, through that tensing, knew that Jax knew the truth as well; that Tig was Donna's killer.

It was then that she realized what was causing the rift between Clay and Jax. Jax knew about Tig and Clay setting up the hit on Ope. Politely taking her leave, she stepped on the smoldering remains of her cigarette and went back inside. She found that not very many people were up yet. Upon futher investigation, she found that Juice was still laying in bed. With a sigh, she went to the chair that sat in the room. On the back of the chair was her black hoodie with the words "Reaper Crew" printed on the front with Juice's cut draped over it.

Picking the cut up, Brielle took her jacket and put it on. The jingle of her keys in one of the hoodie pcokets rewoke Juice. She saw his molten chocolate eyes open and watch her zip up the extra layer of clothing. Quietly, she turned to the door, ready to leave.

"Are you going to see him?" Juice asked as Brielle reached for the doorknob. Him, of course, being Tig.

Brielle shrugged, "I'll call you."

* * *

><p>Tig sat in his living room, curtains drawn, Lynard Skynard playing softly in the background. A glass of Amaretto, filled almost to the brim with ice, rested on the Sergeant at Arm's temple; since he had checked out of the hospital, he had a raging, pounding headache. He blamed the pain meds the doctor had prescribed him. Tig had half a mind to eat as many as he could until he was practically comatose. There was a small, nagging, voice in the back of his head that told him not to.<p>

As he breathed slowly, in and out as controlled as possible, the headache began to disappear. Finally, perhaps he could get some sleep in before the guys got back. From where he sat, Tig could hear the roar of an engine halt infront of his house. Had it not been for his now bum leg, he would have gotten up to see who it was. It wasn't until there was a hard knock on the front door did he pause his music.

He told the knocker that the door was open. Slowly, it opened and the silhouette of a woman stood in his threshold, taking one step and closing the door behind her. In the darkness of the living room, he could still see the outline, but couldn't depict who it was. He wondered if it had been Gemma; he had seen a purse on the shoulder of the woman. There was a clunk as she had run into his coffee table. A soft spoken "shit" came from the lady; he knew instantly who it was.

Brielle, by memory, changed her course to the lamp in the corner. Turning the switch, it illuminated the living room with a dim yellow light. A shit eating grin grew on Tig's face. Brielle rolled her eyes, setting her purse on the table.

"Live it up, Alex," she spoke softly, sitting on the edge of the strong wood table. "We need to talk."

"Yeah, about how you're still obsessed with me?"

Brielle rolled her eyes. "Love, Alex, not obsessed-"

"What's the difference?" Tig spoke, chewing a chunk of ice.

"You lied to me."

A sigh left the weary biker and his leg throbbed a little. "I know. How else was I supposed to get you to stay? Brie, you were eighteen when we met; I doubt you were ready to take on the mantle of two kids and a gash of an ex wife."

"I distinctly remember having a conversation with you once upon a time about if you had a love child if I would stay," Brielle smiled bitterly. They sat in silence, bathed in the not so good light of the lamp. Brielle looked around and shivered a bit. Tig normally stayed at the clubhouse or her house. His sat for weeks on end without anything happening in it; the air conditioner constantly ran at 65. It was more like a hotel than a home. "Juice asked me to choose between you and him."

"Oh yeah," Tig uttered before taking a sip of his alcohol. "What'd you tell 'im"

"Nothing, yet. I haven't decided," She sighed. "But, uh, I'm going to head out and go back to the shop. With you out of commission, we're going to have some guys pulling some double shifts until you can work again. I'll put you on PTO, yeah?"

"Can I claim DWC?" Tig muttered, taking a drink of alcohol again. Brielle laughed; something Tig totally didn't expect.

"No, I don't think so, babe," Brielle stood and gently pried the glass of liquor from his hands. She set it on the table and picked up her purse. "I'll see you later, alright?"

Just as she was about to turn to head to the door, Tig reached out and grasped her hand. As he yanked her back, there was a slight prodding pain in his leg. She knealt at the side of his La-Z-Boy chair, he held her chin in his forefinger and thumb. Tig wasn't sure what it was, but something stuck out in his mind. He couldn't get it out of his head.

"Can I ask you for a quick favor?" Tig spoke softly in a haze of pain meds and liquor. Brielle nodded. "At your house, in the top drawer of the bedside table, on the side that I sleep on is a maroon snapbox. What's inside is yours."

Brielle looked a little puzzled, but nodded again nevertheless. She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Tig's cheek. Once she got to the door, she looked back, a small smile on her face.

"Hey, when you make your choice between Juicey and I," He called to her as she took a step out of the door. "Give me a call."


	17. Homecoming

**Chapter 17**

The weeks had flown by in a blur of explosions and gunfire. Brielle had kept herself busy, mainly with the shop and having to manage it. Mostly, it wasn't too hard. But having to babysit the Sons was getting on her nerves. She hated how they always left projects incomplete whenever Clay called them for something. However, whenever they did finish projects, the job was done flawlessly and the customers were always happy.

She hadn't been able to make a choice between Juice or Tig. There hadn't been any time. Between them going to jail on gun charges and her being wrapped up with the shop, there hadn't been a lot of her being alone with either of them. Not to mention Juice had gotten hurt while in lockdown, which narrowed his already limited visitations. But, things were beginning to settle down; the boys were getting out of San Joaquin; well, all of them except Juice. He was in the hospital, still recovering. The silence was sure to be short lived. Nothing was ever boring with the Sons.

Brielle was in the office, sorting through order forms for parts that were to be put on their customers vehicles later that day. None of them were her projects though, so she hadn't dressed appropriate to being a mechanic. She had picked grey skinny jeans, a white tank top, a gray cardigan with navy blue stripes around the sleeves, and a pair of magenta flats. The iPhone she had stuffed in her back pocket whistled, telling her she had a text message. Sliding the unlock bar to the right, she read the text from Tara and smiled. Brielle never thought that she would have been able to be friends with someone she hadn't got along with before.

Tough times brought people together, no matter the amount of hate between them.

The mechanic stood and put the papers back on the desk. Taking long strides, Brielle crossed the cement lot, making it to where the old ladies, Sons who hadn't gone to jail, and croweaters waited. She stood next to Gemma and Tara, who twittered excitedly about their men coming back. Brielle wished she could join in. But they both knew her situation.

It felt like an eternity passed; she was getting restless. Digging her car keys ot of her back pocket, she turned to Gemma and Tara. "I gotta split."

"Go?" Gemma asked, unfolding her arms. "Why? They're almost home. Don't you want to say hello to Tig?"

"Yeah, I do, I just need to take care of something." Brielle began to head toward her car, still facing the girls.

"Brie, is everything okay?" Tara asked.

She smiled. "Of course."

About ten minutes later, Brielle found herself standing infront of her father's grave. The local boyscout troop had recently come through, cleaning veterans headstones. Brielle admired how the granite sparkled in the sun, the black lettering clean and crisp. Slowly, she sat down and put her chin on her knees.

It had been far too long ago since that devistating day. Everyone had hated to see the passing of such a loveable man. Even Brielle's mother, surprisingly. At least he died doing what he loved, riding his bike with his leather cut on his back. A junkie focused on finding the rock she dropped in her seat veered into the wrong lane and hit Raymond head on.

There were so many things she wanted to say, plenty of questions to ask. If he had been alive, Brielle knew she would have gotten great advice and answers from him. Brielle kept herself from asking those questions aloud. People talked aloud at to gravestones at the cemetary often and Brielle wasn't about to join them. Besides, she was pretty sure that she was no longer alone.

Behind her, the rumble of a motorcycle crescendoed and then immediately halted. She didn't care to see who it was; she had a pretty good guess as to who joined her now anyway. Footsteps on crisp grass told her he was getting closer. As she waited for her visitor to sit, or maybe stand next to her, she stared harder at the granite marker, the letter seemed to move when her eyes became dry from her lack of blinking.

Just as she thought, Tig sat next to her on the grass, legs outstretched, arms propping his torso up. The two were silent and Brielle bit her lip fighting off tears. Despite all he knew about Tig, her father had liked him best out of the guys she had been with and hoped that they would remain happy together. Yeah, that one played out smoothly.

"I miss him too, you know." Tig spoke softly.

Brielle sighed before answering. "I know." After a minute or two of silence between them, Brielle spoke. "Welcome back."

There was something comforting to her when Tig put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side.

"Have you decided yet?" He asked. The question slightly perturbed her, only because Tara and Gemma had been grilling her for days about it. But she was curious; was he trying to get her to choose him? Well, if he was, he wasn't trying very hard.

"No. I don't know if you've noticed, but there hasn't been a lot of time to be alone..."

"Yeah, I know. Did you ever find that snapbox I told you about?"

She shook her head. "I've been kind of busy."

Tig stood and held his hand out for her to take. Putting her smallish girl hand into his larger man one, he pulled Brielle to her feet. He lead her to her car, where he told her to go to the house, he'd be right behind her on his bike. Brielle wondered what was in that snapbox and why it was of such importance to him. From the cemetary, it didn't take long to reach the house.

The air conditioner was inviting and a relief from the outside world. Following Tig to the bedroom, Brielle crashed on the bed while he went to the nightstand on his side. There was an interesting sense of comfortability in Brielle's spine as she laid on the bed, not caring about her shoes being on the dusky red top sheet.

Once he found what he was looking for, he put the maroon box next to Brielle on the bed and laid next to her. Slowly she picked up the box and opened it. From his peripherals Tig saw her freeze as she stared at the mounted ruby and diamond encrusted white gold band.

"Alex...when-what-" A thousand questions ran through her head and she couldn't quite pick one. Tig took notice and smiled a bit.

"It was a long time ago. After I got out of the military and after John's death. I dunno. You had been dropping these hints of marraige and kids and although it was already something I had gone through, I figured our relationship was different than the one I had with my ex-"

"You were planing to propose?"

"Er, well, kind of. I was hoping you'd find the ring and ask me about it." Tig shrugged. "But I chickened out. I never put it somewhere you could find it. I was wrapped up with the Sons, you the school and the shop; we were both always busy."

Brielle chuckled. "How did we have time to maintain a relationship?"

As they laid on the bed, the sun fighting a losing battle with the curtains Brielle had finally put up, she pryed the ring out of the black foam in the box. It was a perfect fit as she slid it on her right ring finger. She laid her arms at her side and stared at the ceiling as Tig did. His hand found hers on the comforter and gave it a light squeeze. A soft smile formed on her lips; he was always like this once he got out.

This was it, though. Brielle had found the answer to her question. It was time to get over the things that happened in the past. Weren't they old enough now that childish reactions to infidelity should be put aside for those thoughts that were more mature? she now realized this was her lot in life. No matter how hectic it was, she belonged here. No matter how many times Tig went to jail, she would stay by his side. She was needed; he needed her, Gemma, Tara, Clay, all of them needed her. Surely TM would be on the verge of collapse if she was to leave now.

Brielle had made up her mind.

Tig looked over at her, adverting her attention from the stucco ceiling. "Can I come home now?"

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry it's shorter than the last one! But I will be getting the next chapter out much sooner! However, I actually can't promise that. I have an interview on Wednesday and I think I have a pretty good shot at getting the job so...we'll see. Haha, either way, I'm going to get to season four before season five starts. I MUST! thank you for reading.<strong>


End file.
